No More Farewells
by Sentimental Star
Summary: Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…CHAPTER 8: Nezumi is given a first hand glimpse of the world Shion has pushed himself so hard to create...-Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.-
1. Like the Spring Wind

**WARNING: **This fic focuses on a loving relationship between two males, although if you've been in the fandom awhile I'd imagine that's not too surprising. If you are used to my "non-slash" works, though, you might want to steer clear of this one if you aren't interested.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe; that belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Author's Note:**_ Eesh ::rubs head sheepishly::, it's been awhile. Sorry about that—real life definitely causes some difficulties with fanfiction, but I did discover this amazing fandom so I guess it's a good trade-off, huh ? I really like the relationship between Shion and Nezumi, as well as the characters themselves. I've read the translations of both the manga and the light novels (although I am still working through that part), and I have seen the entire anime at least three times ::grins::; suffice it to say…I am definitely hooked.

This is a post-series, reunion fic, so spoilers for the end of the light novels and anime if you haven't read and/or seen them all yet. I may also delve into Shion and Nezumi's world post-No. 6—specifically, Nezumi's background as one of the forest folk. I didn't get nearly enough information on that from the anime, so I am hoping the manga and the novels will help. Please enjoy!

_**Rating:**_ T/M (for language, certain issues, and later chapters)

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter One: Like the Spring Wind_

"Ma'am! Ma'am! Look!"

Karan glances up from where she has just put out a fresh tray of blueberry scones, a smile on her face. "What is it, Lili?"

Standing and wiping her hands on her apron, Karan walks over to the little girl where the eight-year-old is bent diligently over a platter of chocolate cupcakes, her small tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she ices them. "See! How did I do?"

Karan beams as she sees that all of the cupcakes have been iced (if rather messily). "Why…that's wonderful, Lili! Would you like to decorate them?"

Lili looks up, dark eyes gleaming. "_May_ I?" she cries.

"Of course!" Karan laughs softly, carefully standing up to go fetch her colored frostings.

"I want to draw a mouse, just like Hamlet!"

Karan halts so suddenly that Lili, who has gone back to frosting the cupcakes, jumps a little. "Ma'am?" she asks.

The woman brushes a stray piece of brown hair behind her ear and glances up the stairs at the closed door sitting at the top. "No," she murmurs, "…It's nothing."

IOIOIOIOIOI

It is still early afternoon when he arrives, and Lili has gone home to get lunch. Karan has just removed another empty tray from the shelf in front of her and replaced it with a third, topped with freshly baked cherry cake, when the bell above the door tinkles.

She turns, expecting it to be a customer looking for a lunch of their own, and smiles a brilliant greeting, "Welcome! How may I-?"

Her voice stutters to a halt, catching in her throat. Her hands, still holding the empty tray, tremble.

The object of her scrutiny is a young man, not much older than Shion (a few months, only). His hair is dark, almost a raven black…long, and twisted back into an elegant ponytail whose ends tickle his shoulders. Bangs frame a set of twilight gray eyes, falling to curve gently around his face. He wears a superfiber scarf coiled snugly around his shoulders and dust from the road lightly coats his boots.

His eyes are unmistakable.

"_They are like moonlight, 'Kaasan. Trapped moonlight."_

It is the only description her son has ever given her of the boy who saved his life.

_Nezumi!_

Tears flood Karan's eyes and eventually trickle down her cheeks. Nezumi notices her gaze and blushes softly, turning away and rubbing shyly at the back of his neck. His next words only further confirm his identity, "…Is Shion home?"

The tray drops to the floor with a loud clatter. Before Nezumi is even able to process her movement, he finds himself locked in Karan's arms with the woman's damp face pressed up against his shoulder. Over and over into the leather of his jacket she murmurs, "Thank you…Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Fighting down the urge to blush and his body's demand that he flee, Nezumi freezes, awkwardly patting her back, but otherwise unsure what to do, much less how the hell he should respond.

He could never push this woman away, but he has no clear memories of how to react to such affection. Even with Shion—

"Welcome home," Karan's voice is a choked mix, between a sob and a laugh, "oh sweet heavens, welcome home!"

At her words, a barrage of memories and warmth assault Nezumi, memories of Shion uttering those same exact words…only now, it is _Karan_ who is saying them, Shion's _mother_—the one whom he has wronged almost as much as Shion himself.

"I'm…back?" his response is quiet and bewildered, uncertain to the point of being painful.

Karan merely pulls back with a sniff and a laugh, wiping her eyes with her apron, but smiling so, _so_ happily. "Kami, look at me…where are my manners! Come in, Nezumi, _please_! You must be tired, and hungry, and…o-oh, Gods, I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Indeed, she is still crying. Nezumi feels a lump clog his throat and his own eyes burn at the utter _joy_ this woman feels at his return.

_No one has ever…only Shion…a-and he's…he's…_

"Thank you," Nezumi surprises himself by whispering, even more so when he realizes he is choking back a sob. "Thank you…for welcoming me so warmly into your house…thank you."

_Shion…is this where you get it from? The ability to love and trust so unreservedly? Gods, how could you stand leaving this behind? How could I have ever—_

But now is not the time for "what-ifs," because Karan hugs him again and this time Nezumi, much to his own surprise, is able to return it.

IOIOIOIOIOI

Once they have both calmed, Karan leads him into the back room which functions as both kitchen and bakery. Nezumi sits at the small wooden table, unable to recall whether Shion had ever described the home he'd been forced to leave when he came to live with Nezumi.

…He probably hadn't, considering Nezumi's insistence on cutting away all ties to his former life. Nor had Nezumi ever asked, determined to remain unattached.

_Which, of course, I failed spectacularly at. We were connected from the very beginning, and it took me three fucking years to realize that._

It is a cozy kitchen, only large enough to house two stacked ovens (which, even now, have delicious smells wafting out of them), a counter for preparation, a kitchen sink, a two burner stove, this table, four chairs (one of which he is sitting in), and a small variety of shelves and cabinets.

It isn't much bigger than the room they shared three years ago, but Nezumi loves it.

Karan sees his wandering eyes and smiles faintly, setting out a whole cherry cake on the counter. "It isn't much, I know," she offers, "but it's home." She indicates the cake, "Would you like some? Something tells me you like it almost as much as Shion does."

Nezumi swallows thickly, praying that his voice will come out as something louder than a whisper—he hopes, "Probably even more, Ma'am."

Karan's smile widens, as if he's just confirmed something she's suspected all along.

Which, Nezumi realizes, he probably has. He glances down at the slice of cherry cake she has just placed in front of him: if Karan is anything like her son, she'll have known an instant _why_ he likes cherry cake so much, even though he hasn't had it in close to seven years.

The woman's cheerful voice breaks into his reverie, "Go ahead and eat." She smiles at him, brushing back a strand of her hair, "And please, call me Karan, Nezumi. You've more than earned the right."

_Like son, like mother._

Nezumi makes no move to pick up the fork she has placed beside his plate. His throat has gone dry and he can barely croak out the next sentence, "…You aren't angry?"

_She knows I was the VC all those years ago. She knows I'm the reason why they are where they are now, so why—_

Karan's smile widens and warms, "I will be if you don't start eating soon."

A soft blush creeps into Nezumi's cheeks. Dutifully, he picks up the fork and starts eating…and _oh,_ the cherry cake is just how he remembers it: warm and sweet and _full_, full to bursting with sweetness and flavor.

When he finishes that slice, polishing it off in a matter of minutes as politely as he can, Karan laughs. She fetches him another piece, this time bringing over a croissant and several scones, as well.

Once he is full, she hands him a cup of tea and plops into a chair beside him, holding her own cup and letting out a sigh of relief as she eases off her feet. It is only then that Nezumi realizes she wants to talk, and suddenly has difficulty swallowing his tea.

Karan seems to sense his discomfort, for she reaches out and interweaves their fingers with a gentle smile, lightly squeezing his hand. "It's really all right, Nezumi, I'm not angry. I never was to begin with, really." She withdraws her hand and takes a sip of her tea.

_Why?_ he wonders miserably. _Why? I ruined your life…and Shion…_

Karan must be able to read where his thoughts are taking him because she eyes him tenderly, smiling slightly as she sips at her tea. "I was _proud_ of him, Nezumi. I am even prouder of him now. He's making a difference…he _made_ a difference for you…and…I don't really miss it, that life we had in Chronos."

Nezumi tenses and it is the only indication Karan has that he has realized she's known who he is all along. Shaking her head, she moves to stroke back a piece of his hair, as she has done countless times to comfort Shion. "Don't misunderstand me, Nezumi. It was a good life, free of worry, but…" for the first time she hesitates, "it wasn't…it wasn't happy. Sometimes, it felt rather like being a caged bird." She sighs at the memory as she reflects back on that time, eyes a touch sad, "I know Shion felt it, too, perhaps even more than I did. Yes, we were stripped of our privileges, and sometimes it was hard not having the same access to medicines and other services that we were used to. But in the end…it was really a blessing in disguise. I love my life here."

Nezumi's hands clutch at his cup in a vain attempt to hide their trembling, and he bends his head forward, hiding his eyes behind his bangs, "…What about Shion?"

He remembers what he's seen, the struggles his rats allowed him to be privy to, in the years before they met again. He doesn't think _that_ qualifies as happy, but…

"He's never regretted helping you for an instant."

Karan's reply is so sudden, so prompt, and so very sure that Nezumi jerks his head up, staring at her in stunned disbelief.

_He…seriously doesn't? But…wait, he told me that, too, didn't he? It was the night Inukashi had her dogs teach me a "special lesson," the night before he intended to save Safu…that night…_

"That" night is one he doesn't particularly care to remember, mainly because the emotions he felt back then were so damned _raw_ that they terrified him. They _still_ terrify him, but if he is able to stay by Shion's side as a result…

_That was the first night I cried. The first night I realized I still knew how to cry…_

Nezumi swallows again, thickly, "If he hadn't met me…If he hadn't saved me…"

…_He would never have lost his innocence. He would never have had to learn what "reality" really is. He would never have had to kill…or have __been__ killed…_

A shudder wracks Nezumi's frame, unwelcome memories rushing to the surface.

Karan sighs, and it hitches at the end as she contemplates _that_ possibility. Her hand resumes its gentle strokes through his hair, "You wouldn't have survived, Nezumi," she whispers, "and he would never have been saved."

Her reply is so succinct, so _simple_…Nezumi wonders if that's really all there is to it. Karan's voice warms, "However you look at it, you still saved him. I know you will believe this better coming from him, but…" she gives a tender laugh, "he's at the orphanage right now, so I hope you will at least listen. _You are the best thing that could ever have happened to him_, and one day…I hope you will believe the same."

IOIOIOIOIOI

The bell over the bakery door goes off a few minutes later and Karan gives a small laugh. "Oh, well. Back to business as usual," she sighs, but Nezumi, for the first time, actually _hears_ the happiness behind it.

Karan is still speaking as she stands up, and it takes all of Nezumi's considerable self-control not to bolt when she suddenly leans down and kisses the crown of his forehead. "Never regret living, Nezumi," she murmurs. "Never regret meeting him. For he is more alive than I have ever seen him."

She pulls back with a smile and a moment later she's gone, ducking out into the bakery through the curtain that separates that room from this. He hears her muffled voice asking someone how she might serve them.

Once he is alone, Nezumi drops his forehead against his clenched fists, shoulders trembling. He fights back the heat that wants to stream down his cheeks and manages to do so—just barely.

Cheep, cheep.

Cheep, cheep.

Two concerned inquiries come from the pockets of his jacket, and two quivering noses cautiously poke out. Nezumi manages a crooked smile, "It's all right…you can come out now. I'm sure Shion's mama won't mind."

Cravat and Tsukiyo wriggle out of his pockets and scamper up onto the table top, whiskers twitching as they sit on their hind legs and gaze up at him. Nezumi gives a thick laugh, "I'm sure if you're patient she'll give you a nice treat later."

There are two disappointed chirps. Nezumi chuckles again, "No, I don't think now would be the right time to see her. She's a little busy."

Cravat seems satisfied with this answer and, turning thrice, curls up and falls asleep.

Nezumi sighs quietly through his nose, running a gentle finger down the mouse's spine.

_Well, it's only natural I suppose. We have been traveling since dawn…_

Cheep, chirp, cheep.

Nezumi blinks down at Tsukiyo, slightly startled by her insistent little voice. "Something wrong?"

Cheep, _chirp_, cheep!

He raises his head and shakes it, glancing away and out into the bakery where he can see Karan hard at work. "I'm fine."

_...I'm fine. It's just…I'd really like to see Shion right now. I-It hurts, and I've only been waiting half an hour. He's been waiting for three years…_

Nezumi gulps.

…_I hope._

The first of many tears slides down his cheeks. Roughly, Nezumi scrubs the heel of his palm across his eyes.

"Oh! Is that Tsukiyo?"

Nezumi stiffens as Karan's delighted voice suddenly comes from behind him. He doesn't turn around, conscious of the tears marring his cheeks and the burning of his eyes. He does nod, though, praying his voice won't break when he speaks, "I-It is, M—Karan."

Karan's gaze is soft and steady, resting on his back. Nezumi senses it and his cheeks flush.

_This is what they call "mother's intuition," I suppose._

But he's had so little experience in the field that he isn't sure.

Fortunately, when Karan's arm slides around his shoulders and lightly squeezes him, he already half-expects it and so, doesn't flinch. "You must be tired," she murmurs gently. "Why don't you head upstairs and sleep? Shion should be home soon. He always goes to read at the orphanage on his days off, so he shouldn't be much longer."

_Goes…to read…?_

Nezumi is surprised for a moment, but then he remembers little Karan and her brother Rico, and the memory of Shion's clear, quiet voice ringing out in their underground hovel washes over him on the cusp of a powerful wave of nostalgia.

The words are past his lips before he even registers them, "W-Which room is his?"

Karan laughs, bright and warm, and Nezumi's cheeks burn, but he can't take the words back now, "Up the stairs and to the right." She shoos him towards the staircase once he stands, "Go on now, I'll take care of Cravat and Tsukiyo."

Unsure how to thank her, Nezumi nods and turns. Placing his foot on the bottom step once she relieves him of his traveling pack, he starts to head upstairs.

_A bed…sounds really good right now._

IOIOIOIOIOI

He doesn't make it any further than the threshold of Shion's room.

The scent lingering everywhere—_Shion's_ scent—unchanged and unmistakable, would have been enough to freeze Nezumi in his steps. It isn't that preciously held memory that causes him to cling white-knuckled to the threshold of Shion's room, though:

_My books…_

Haphazardly piled, scattered across every available surface, are the books that Nezumi has treasured above every other material possession that he owns.

_Shion…saved my books. He carried them here…alone?_

A lump swells in his throat. The tears he has been fighting since leaving the kitchen now well up, snaking down his cheeks in hot, salty rivulets.

_Shion saved my books._

Nezumi can't get that thought out of his head.

Swallowing back more tears, he unsteadily pushes himself off of the doorway and slips into the room. At one point it must have been (and still is, he notes, taking stock of the other objects cluttered around it) a storage room. Now it is a makeshift library and Shion's bedroom.

As he gingerly steps between the piles of books on his way towards Shion's bed, he reaches out and runs his hands along the spines of the stories he passes:

_Candide_…_Les Misérables__…__The Odyssey__…_

Old friends he knows almost as well as the one who rescued them.

_Hamlet…Macbeth…The Happy Prince…_

Tears spark again in Nezumi's eyes when he reaches the bed.

_They're all here._

Feeling his knees buckle and give way, Nezumi immediately collapses onto the bed, leaning his head forward and pressing his fingers tightly against his eyes.

_They're all here, every one of them._

He has only felt this scared a few times in his life. He isn't _used_ to feeling so much emotion, much less accepting that they _are_ his emotions.

He knows emotions exist, he knows their various names and how various authors claim they feel, but until he met Shion, he never knew he was capable of _feeling_ this much, so much more than simple anger or hatred.

It is, once again, something he isn't sure he'll ever be able to thank Shion for.

IOIOIOIOIOI

Completely wrung out, Nezumi curls up in Shion's bed not long after, clutching the other boy's pillow to his chest. Everywhere, surrounding him, cradling him, is Shion's scent. It mixes with that of old books and dust, permeating the air and shrouding him like a blanket.

With a choked sigh, Nezumi finally gives into his exhaustion, heedless of the fact that he is still in his traveling clothes. By the time Karan climbs the stairs to check on him, Cravat and Tsukiyo nestled snugly in her collar, he is well and truly asleep.

Hushing the mice as they chirp quietly, she leans down with a faint smile and gently pulls up the covers, tucking the blanket underneath his chin. Brushing a stray strand of dark hair out of his eyes, Karan presses a light kiss to his forehead.

Feeling the feathered touch of her lips on his skin, Nezumi stirs faintly, but by then Karan is already gone, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Shion is due home in a couple of hours, after all, and she wants to have dinner waiting.

_End Chapter_


	2. The Ever Fixed Star

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these two boys; they, and their universe, belong to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _7_ of you, thank you very much. I appreciate the reviews, especially since I'm new to the fandom.

_**Author's Note:**_ Wow ::scratches neck sheepishly::, this is a _completely_ different scenario from what I first imagined. But you know what? I think I like it. A rather unorthodox reunion, but hey ::grins::, can you blame me? I hope I've done all right with Shion and Nezumi's characters. I think they might be slightly OOC, but I think that's just the way this fic has turned out so far. It's interesting ::smiles again::. Several more chapters to go with this, so please enjoy!

_**Rating: T/M**_

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Two: The Ever-Fixed Star_

(Two Hours Later)

"_Mama Karan!_"

The bakery door below literally _slams _open and Nezumi jerks awake, disoriented and groggy. Cravat and Tsukiyo, who have crept upstairs at some point, scurry around in momentary panic and startlement on his chest as Nezumi tries to process why the loud voice is so familiar.

A minute later, a white blur of color streaks into the room he's been sleeping in, shrilling desperately at the top of his little lungs.

Nezumi's sleep-deprived mind takes a moment to process the identity of the mouse, but when it does, he is abruptly wide-awake:

_Hamlet!_

It is the mouse who chose to stay with Shion, the mouse who has taken it as his duty to warn either Nezumi or Shion whenever the other is in danger. His abrupt, frantic appearance now sets all of Nezumi's nerves on edge:

_Something's wrong._

He swallows against the constriction in his chest and the tightness of his throat.

_Something's happened…to Shion?_

A flurry of insistent chirps. Nezumi shoves his feet into his boots and twists his hair up into a messy bun in record time.

Two seconds later, he is pounding down the stairs, taking them two, three at a time.

_Damn! I thought he'd be protected, that this city was safe…! I am such an idiot—I should have known better…!_

Hamlet scurries down the steps in front of him while Tsukiyo and Cravat take up the rear. He nearly slides into the wooden table once he topples into the kitchen, slamming his right hip into its corner, before spilling out into the bakery a moment later.

Karan whirls around with a stifled cry. Inukashi, who is with her, unabashedly gapes at him.

He has no time for greetings, no breath to spare for pleasantries. He is in no state to notice the changes _three years apart_ have wrought on the girl; his entire being is focused on one thing, and one thing only, "_Where the hell is Shion?"_

Much later, he will be embarrassed by the language he uses in front of Karan. At the moment, he doesn't care.

Inukashi slowly closes her mouth, still undeniably stunned, and points out the door, "Five blocks down towards the old West Block and in an alleyway to the left. They've got barely any weapons, just knives, and—_hey! Nezumi! Where the hell do you think you're going? Do you even know the way?_"

But Nezumi is already gone, out the door and following on the tip of Hamlet's tail.

Back in the shop, listening to the door rattle itself quiet, Inukashi lowers her arm and blows out a frustrated breath. "_Che_! That idiot! He hasn't changed a bit. I don't suppose it would have done any good to let him know that Shion'll be perfectly fine on his own."

"Let's hope so," Karan murmurs, moving to place a few newly baked bread loaves out on the shelves. But her eyes are constant and fretful, wandering outside to the street below, so much so that Inukashi is obliged to quietly take the empty trays from her hands and help Karan prepare for the evening rush.

IOIOIOIOIOI

(Alleyway Outside of Orphanage)

A soft grunt. Shion ducks to the side as two beefy fists hammer down on his head.

"_Are you crazy? Of course I'm not going to leave you here alone!"_

The man staggers forward, overbalancing, and lands headfirst in the large trash bin occupying part of this alleyway. Shion, in spite of the situation, allows himself a very faint, very slight smile.

"_Inukashi…weren't you the one who said it was high time I learned how to fend for myself?"_

"_Well, yeah, but-!"_

A knife whistles past his cheek. Shion jerks aside and side-steps the thrust with less inherent grace than he'd like.

"_I'll be fine. You're the one who taught me how to fight, after all."_

"…_Che! Fine. But I'm not the one who'll explain this to Karan if you somehow wind up dead!"_

"_Thank you for your concern, Inukashi."_

"_Hmph."_

A foot kicks out. Shion leans to the left, grabbing his attacker's leg as it sails past him, and twists it, forcing his second assailant to the harsh, unforgiving concrete. There is a muffled curse and a knife clatters to the ground. Shion sends it pin-wheeling out of the alley by kicking the weapon aside with his foot.

"_When I tell you to go, go. Get them out of here."_

_A jerk of his chin towards the two shaking children huddled together in the shadows who are watching the proceedings with fearful eyes._

"_Got it. Don't keep me waiting too long, Wonder Boy."_

_A flash of a smile as he sets his feet: "Of course not."_

The remaining four opponents are hesitating now, uncertain how to approach him and get through his defenses. He has already taken out two of their number and looks fully capable of taking out two more.

Shion _doesn't_ hesitate.

A swift kick sends a metal milk container, devoid of its contents, careening into their midst. Having been pressed against the back wall of the alley, Shion dives through the center of their knot as they scatter, twisting to avoid the badly aimed swipe of yet another knife.

He has reached the mouth of the alleyway now, and spins to face his opponents, fully prepared to run if need be.

Two come at him at the same time, from opposite sides. There is the quicksilver flash of a knife through the air.

Shion ducks and grabs that particular arm, flinging it against a protruding brick.

A pained cry; the knife clatters to the ground and its owner drops into a crouch, cradling his broken wrist.

That doesn't stop him from lashing out at Shion's ankles, though.

Shion hastily backpedals, ducking as a beefy fist whirls at his face from the left and slamming his body into the other man's stomach. He has used all the momentum his body can muster and the thug crumples soundlessly to the ground.

Only three opponents remain now (two and a half counting broken wrists), but these are the ones that make Shion wary. For the most part during this little tussle they have held themselves back. Shion takes that to mean they are either incompetent or the best-skilled of the pack.

_Somehow, I don't think it's the former._

The one he's injured has since dragged himself to his feet. There are two others conversing somewhere in the background, but Shion doesn't dare look away. This one is a young man, and clearly has a great deal of pride.

_Which I've just spectacularly shot to hell,_ he quietly notes.

There is no way he is going to let his companions join in the melee now; he has become the most dangerous type of opponent, willing and reckless enough to do _anything_ to gain back his pride.

Shion swallows and sets his feet again.

_Oh, well. Not like I wasn't expecting this._

The work he has done for the Reconstruction Committee is well-known, and this group is the last of the Cleaners, the gang that terrorized West Block while he still lived there with—

_Shit. Not now. Damn it, focus!_

The voice in his head sounds awfully like Nezumi.

_Willing_ the memories back, Shion focuses on his current situation.

A knife flashes up into the other young man's uninjured hand. Had he the thought and time to spare, Shion might have wondered exactly how many knives this Cleaner has sheathed on his person.

He doesn't, though, and is forced to duck the slash that sails towards his neck, coming a little too close to nicking him.

A second knife suddenly flies at his face from his opponent's other side, from a supposedly injured right hand.

Lurching back a step, Shion cries out as a white-hot flash of pain zings across his cheek. Blood, hot and fluid, splashes down his skin. He steps back, steps _wrong_, and chokes back an involuntary gasp as his ankle twists, sending him careening to the ground.

Even through the wavering haze of his pain, he sees that it is too late, time's run out, and both of the blades are currently descending on his neck at an alarming rate. He wishes, fleetingly, that he might be able to say "_Good-bye_" to a few people and _"I'm sorry_" to a few more…but he doesn't, he _can't_, and the moment passes.

There is a clatter and a cry. Shion stares, uncomprehending, as his assailant collapses mere centimeters in front of him, blood pooling from his side.

_Who…?_

Black boots enter his peripheral vision before their owner comes to stand in front of him, his stance casual and unruffled. Shion's gaze tracks its way up to his face, and he notices that the gray eyes—_Nezumi's_ gray eyes—are incredibly alert. A knife rests easily in his palm, and its wielder carelessly flicks the blade open. "So…who's next?"

Shion gapes at him. Gray eyes slide briefly to his and the corner of a mouth quirks up into a warm smirk, "A bit of extracurricular activities, your Highness?"

Shion sputters and doesn't receive a chance to reply as, with a sudden scrape of rubber along concrete, the closest Cleaner lunges for his savior.

IOIOIOIOIOI

The brawl is elegant, brutal, and short. Shion can only stare as it plays out in front of him—a savage, beautiful dance that makes his head reel (or maybe that's just the pain).

Towards the end there is a misstep. The dancer doesn't see it, but Shion does.

It's an anomaly, something that doesn't belong in the script.

Staggering to his feet, ignoring the blinding heat screaming from his injuries, Shion dives, slamming the entire weight of his right side into the tall, female shadow that has detached itself from the wall.

Her intent had been to sneak up on the dancer, currently engaged in a rather vicious knife fight with the man he _thinks_ is the last assailant.

Now Shion nips it, so swift, so _fast_, that she isn't even able to draw her knife. Nezumi did say he was light on his feet, after all.

The air leaves her lungs. Two of her ribs crack as she is rammed into the brick wall, and she drops to the ground with a strangled cry, clutching at her side. In the background, a knife clatters to the ground.

Shion's blood sings through his veins at a startling velocity. His whole body shakes—_trembles_—as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces the adrenaline to seep out of his blood vessels, rather afraid of what he will do to this woman if it doesn't.

_We're fine. We're safe. He's safe. It's over. So don't do something you know isn't necessary!_

A hand touches his shoulder, and long, elegant fingers grip it tight, "Shion…?"

The voice, slightly breathless and lacking the steel of battle, causes his head to spin. Part of him feels like he's sobbing hysterically (_It's him, it's him, oh, Gods, it's __him__!_), the other part forces his eyes open, forces him to take stock of their surroundings and assess them for any lingering threats.

There isn't any.

"_Shion_!"

His legs have given out. The two of them end up sprawled out on the ground, Shion toppled across his rescuer's chest.

A strangled half-gasp, half-laugh rises from the other boy's throat as shaking fingers work their way into his hair. "Shion…" a pair of warm lips abruptly collides with his forehead, again and again and _again_…"Shion…_Shion_…"

Shion cracks his eyes open and discovers that he's crying, choking as he struggles to breathe through tears. His hands, shaking and white-knuckled, clutch at the lapels of his companion's leather jacket. Through blurred vision, he sees gray eyes, bright and wild with an odd mix of worry, awe, anxiety, and delight, tracing every feature of his face.

Their owner can't seem to stop kissing him. Every unbloodied inch of his face is showered with an onslaught of affection. Fingers tenderly swipe at the parts that _are_ bloodied, even as the salty sting of his tears enters the wound he's sustained.

"N-Ne…zu-?"

He can hardly say it, but it turns out that he doesn't need to—their lips crash together a second later, a hard press of skin against skin. Shion's breath continues to hitch, and his brain continues to reel, but he is able to mumble out around the kiss, "Will I need stitches?"

It is not what he wants to say at _all_, but apparently it's good enough.

Nezumi pulls back, staring at him in utter disbelief for a whole tenth of a second, before completely cracking up. "Y-You…You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Wiping away tears of mirth, he chuckles again, shimmying out from underneath Shion and, standing up, offers him a hand. His gray eyes are glowing, joy and relief radiating from them, "Y-Yes, your Majesty, I'm afraid stitches are _quite_ necessary."

Shion sighs, feeling his tears start to dry. Grabbing Nezumi's hand, he allows himself to be hoisted to his feet, "Fine, but you're the one stitching me up."

Nezumi's hands rest on his chest as Shion transfers most of his weight to his good foot. Raven hair brushes against his uninjured cheek as the other young man suddenly leans in and brushes his lips across his jaw line. "As my Prince commands, I obey," Nezumi replies warmly against the skin, teasing, before stepping away.

Heat floods Shion's cheeks. Oddly enough, it feels like _he's_ the one who has finally returned home.

_End Chapter_


	3. Brave New World, Part I

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe. All of it belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _10_ of you, thank you!

_**Author's Note:**_ I had originally planned for this chapter to be much longer (and it's already long enough!), but in the end I decided breaking up the information might work out better ::shrugs, smiling::. In any case, here's the third chapter—I am _hoping _to eventually have artwork to go with it, but for right now, I think this will do. Please enjoy!

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

_**Rating: **_ T/M

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Three: Brave New World (Part I)_

"Aria-san…? As soon as you receive the chance, would you please get another medical team out here? I think there are at least three other people who could use the attention. I'll take care of the payment."

Where he is carefully putting down the tools he's used to sew Shion's cheek up, Nezumi glances at him askance. He is sure his jaw must have unhinged slightly, and isn't entirely sure he has heard correctly.

_What the hell…?_

The female officer seems to be of the same opinion. Her cheeks flush angrily and her green eyes spark with fire. "But, Shion-!"

Shion cuts her off by holding up a single hand. His stare is even as he fixes it on her, but there is also gentleness to it—compassion, and an understanding that effectively fizzles out her ire.

It is a show of authority that the Shion from three years ago had displayed in wisps and hints, but Nezumi had never imagined he would see it reach its full potential.

Slowly, he closes his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line as realization hits him squarely between the eyes:

_I was wrong._

He watches silently as Shion quietly instructs the young woman—Aria, was it?—on further steps he'd like her to take concerning the gang members they'd just thoroughly roughed up a little more than half an hour ago.

_No, that's not it. "Instructing" isn't the right word. He's requesting it, letting her decide for herself whether she'll refuse it._

Nezumi is not terribly surprised when she doesn't.

Over the past forty-five minutes he has watched Shion direct these law enforcement officials hither and thither—to the alley, to the orphanage…He'd asked _Nezumi himself_ to give as accurate a report as his thoroughly befuddled mind could piece together. All the while making it seem as if they'd be doing Shion a _favor_ that they are under no obligation to fulfill.

_I was halfway through my statement before I even realized it._

He'd asked Shion about it once he finished, even managing to insinuate that with such a tongue, he could easily charm someone out of their clothes and they'd be all too happy to oblige.

A dark blush had coated Shion's cheeks afterwards and, seeing it, a couple of nearby officers had laughed, poking gentle fun at the nineteen-year-old Committee Member:

"_This fella? Hell, yeah! Though I hear he's saving himself for someone special."_

"_Some pretty chick, eh, Cap'n?"_

"_Who says it has to be a chick? I heard it was a beautiful person…"_

Shion, however it was possible, had grown gradually redder and redder with each jesting tease. When all eyes had simultaneously turned to Nezumi, who had remained sitting beside him, it had taken very little imagination to catch on to what they were implying.

Nezumi had glared, quite pleased to see it caused one or two of their number to back up a step…but then Shion had smiled warmly at him, and any irritation or anger melted away on the spot.

"_I had a good teacher."_

At that point, the officers had realized that their friendly teasing had merited far more truth than they ever expected. Nezumi had simply been embarrassed.

"…_Che! The things you say…"_

What he doesn't dare admit to out loud, however, is the fact that their words and Shion's response have clued him in to yet another truth:

_He waited for me. He really waited for me._

"Nezumi…?"

Jerking, Nezumi snaps his eyes and attention back to the present and the warm pair of red eyes hovering just inside his field of vision. Swallowing back his pounding heart, he subtly shifts back so that Shion's face isn't quite so near. "Done with your statement?"

Shion's look tells him he isn't fooled for a moment.

_When did you become so…non-oblivious…to things like this?_

The other young man lets it go with a sigh, "Yeah."

Inwardly, Nezumi winces. He's _trying_, really he is, but he has been conditioned to answer any unexpected touch or response with a punch at best and a knife at someone's throat at worst.

_But…it's never been that way with Shion, has it? Even that night, after our first dance…it petrified me, sure, but I didn't attack him._

The realization is sudden, new…and not entirely unwelcome.

_Why didn't I attack him? He got inside my defenses before I could even react, but afterwards…? Afterwards, when he turned away and went to sleep…? I was far more concerned about figuring out how he got inside my defenses rather than retaliating, and the next day…we went about our errands as if nothing had ever happened._

A hand lightly shakes Nezumi's shoulder, and _now_ he reacts, immediately grabbing its owner's wrist. At first touch, he recognizes it as belonging to Shion.

His body freezes, even _relaxes_.

_I stopped myself from reacting, _he realizes. _I __deliberately stopped myself__. And just now…I did it again._

His hand curls tightly around Shion's wrist, the epiphany that accompanies it both startling and scary, with a great deal of marvel thrown into the mix:

_I trust him. Even with all the changes…_

Shion eyes him worriedly, wrapping his own hand around Nezumi's wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze.

…_I trust him._

IOIOIOIOIOI

Five minutes later, Nezumi has forced Shion to sit, arranging it so that their knees are touching. He has just finished swabbing anesthetic over the stitches, and returns the tongs he has used to hold the swab back to the borrowed medical kit, disposing of the cotton ball once he has done so.

They have remained silent until now. As he picks up a clean piece of gauze, Nezumi finally speaks up: "I was wrong," he murmurs.

"Hmm…?" Shion cracks his eyes open, peering at him warmly.

Nezumi sighs and smoothes the bandage gently over Shion's injured cheek, carefully taping off the ends. "When I said you hadn't changed…I was wrong. You _have_ changed…a bit."

_The authority you have…_

Thinking of the conversation he has just been witness to.

_The respect you've gained…_

His eyes sadden slightly.

_Those aren't the boy I remember. You were fine without me._

Shion's eyes blink open all the way and he sits up properly, leaning back from Nezumi's touch only far enough to allow them to see eye to eye. "I suppose I have in some ways," he agrees softly. "You have, too," added as he glances down fondly at the fingers the other boy has unconsciously rested on his thigh.

Cringing slightly, Nezumi withdraws his hand, setting aside the tape, "How so?"

_How can you always see right through me?_

Shion just smiles warmly, reaching up to tenderly brush aside Nezumi's bangs. "This, for one," he murmurs. His fingers slide down the side of Nezumi's face, curling gently around his jaw and tugging his head down.

The kiss is tender, a mere fluttering of petals against his lips. Nezumi groans: "Tease," he mutters. Biting down lightly on the other's bottom lip, he laces his fingers behind Shion's head and pulls the smaller man into a much firmer kiss. Daring, even, to cautiously probe at Shion's lips with his tongue.

Shion grants him access without a moment's hesitation.

_Three years…and you're still so trusting. Gods, Shion…I-I can't believe I left this…That I almost lost this…!_

Nezumi shudders and the press of his lips strengthens. Their kiss deepens; he has tugged Shion practically into his lap, but his companion doesn't seem to be voicing any objections. Certainly not…if the wrap of his arms is any indication.

When they finally separate, they are panting heavily. Struggling to catch his breath and, at the same time, will back the moisture pooling behind his eyes, Nezumi drops his forehead against Shion's shoulder, hands clasping tightly at the nape of his white-haired counterpart's neck.

"And so…?" he manages when he has breath enough. "The point of that delightful little exercise…?"

Shion's lips brush gently against the side of his neck, "To prove that you are capable of accepting affection." He chuckles fondly, "Had I tried that three years ago—and believe me, I _wanted_ to—I would have either been scolded or laughed at, and most probably would have found myself up against a bookshelf with your fist at my throat."

"I wasn't _that_ bad," Nezumi grumbles. He shifts, though, pressing against Shion's chest in silent apology.

Shion snorts warmly. "Close enough," he murmurs. He, too, shifts, and lightly presses his hand to Nezumi's back, kissing his forehead in response to the words that _haven't_ been spoken.

_It's all right, I forgive you. It's enough to have you here, like this, with me._

IOIOIOIOIOI

(An Hour Later)

Nezumi catches up to him as they leave the orphanage, snagging his hand before they walk very far. "Won't your mama be worried?"

His voice is quiet when he asks that. They have just finished checking in with the children at Shion's request, but now that all is well, an hour has already passed. It has been _two and a half _hours since Nezumi rushed out of Karan Bakery (but he doesn't tell Shion that….yet).

Shion winces, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as the thought occurs to him that Nezumi is probably right. "Most likely. I'll have to make sure I apologize to her when we get there."

Nezumi makes a thoughtful noise at the back of his throat. "Hold that thought."

As Shion watches bemusedly, he gently tugs his hand free, unlacing their fingers. His movement elicits a startled smile as Shion realizes Nezumi hasn't strayed very far from his side since they have reunited.

_I don't think he's even let me out of his sight for five minutes._

He keeps his thoughts to himself, however, watching as Nezumi rustles through his jacket pocket. His hand closes gently around something, and when he pulls it out, a small, black mouse sits comfortably on his palm.

A delighted smile lights up Shion's face. "Tsukiyo!"

The black mouse chirps excitedly at him, working herself into a fair tizzy as he reaches out to lightly stroke her head.

Nezumi smirks slightly, peering warmly at the mouse as he holds her up at eye level. "Think you can bring a message to Shion's mama for me?"

Another series of chirps; Nezumi grins, "You're just greedy."

An indignant shrill.

Nezumi laughs. To Shion, the sound is moonlight and starfire, unhindered by the bitterness and harshness it possessed while they lived in the West Block.

_So, this, too, has changed. I want to hear it again._

A softer warble answers Nezumi's laughter, as if Tsukiyo, too, is aware of the difference.

With a smile teasing at his lips, Nezumi gently sets her down on the ground. He doesn't straighten until she nips fondly at his fingers and scurries off, carrying a familiar pill capsule between her teeth.

Although Shion sorely wishes to know what the message contains (at one point, Nezumi's cheeks had burned with a substantial blush), he'll settle for the hand that has once again sought out his own.

"…You really can't seem to stop touching me, can you?"

Nezumi (to Shion's delight) flushes a deep, dark shade of red. "…Shut up," he grumbles.

It is really not very effective: Nezumi's hand has tightened around his, and one tug has Shion fetched up against his side.

Warmth floods Shion's cheeks. He suspects it may take awhile to adjust to this newly-affectionate Nezumi…but he doesn't think he'll mind too much.

_Really, I shouldn't even be all that surprised._

The memory of a small, feverish body pressed close to his, after all, is never very far off.

"_Living people are warm…" Right, Nezumi?_

"What are you thinking about?" the voice is still a grumble and, when Shion glances up, he sees a faint blush still decorates Nezumi's cheek. The other nineteen-year-old, though, has yet to let go of him.

Shion laughs softly, his smile tender as it plays around his lips, "Nothing, just a stray memory."

Nezumi's eyes widen slightly as he catches what Shion is implying and, almost immediately, he glances away, scratching at the back of his neck with his cheeks a steady burn.

Shion snorts quietly, endlessly amused by this easily flustered Nezumi. Releasing it on a heartfelt sigh, he tugs lightly on the hand still clasped within his and succeeds in reclaiming Nezumi's attention. His eyes dance as an overwhelming happiness consumes his entire being. "I have _so much _I want to ask you-" he begins.

But a female voice interrupts him: "_Shion_!" Footsteps clatter down the cobblestones behind them.

Shion turns quickly at the hail, vaguely aware of Nezumi shifting his stance to accommodate him. "Aria-san…?" the woman runs up to them, "Is everything all right?"

The young female officer is bent double, hands on her knees and panting slightly as she tries to regain her breath. Her green eyes beam when she straightens up, "So it's true, is it? You really _are_ smiling again!"

"Um…yes?"

Shion's tone tells the two with him how bewildered he is by the question.

Aria rolls her eyes. "You're used to this, I hope?"

She has directed the question at Nezumi, and a startled smirk creeps across his lips, "Very much so."

Aria flashes a warm look at him before turning back to Shion. "You sure know how to pick them, Captain."

Shion flushes. "Er..."

Aria laughs. "Just so you know…everyone's really happy for you, and they sent me to tell you that."

Letting it go, Shion's eyes soften. "Thank you. Um…" he glances sidelong at Nezumi, almost shyly, to see if he minds, "was I really that obvious?"

Aria laughs again, and Nezumi's arm curls around his waist, tightening when she speaks, "Hell, yeah! But actually, the main reason I'm here—aside from that—is to let you know everything has gone smoothly so far. Fingers crossed that the investigations go well—they start tomorrow. I'd ask if you're going to be in your office, but…" she trails off, nearly laughing again, and glances at Nezumi, "I think you'll be busy. We'll get as far as we can before we need your input, so take a break, all right? We can take care of ourselves for a few days."

Tension Shion has not realized is there seeps out of his shoulders, and he breaks into a grateful smile. "Thanks again, Aria."

Aria claps her boots together and salutes. "Not a problem, Captain!"

Listening to the echoes of her boot steps as they rebound against the walls, Nezumi watches her go, snorting softly when she sashays her hips before turning a corner. "…Interesting woman. Friend of yours?"

His gray eyes are teasing when they turn back to Shion, and they glint fondly when the other young man blushes. "Not like _that_, Nezumi!"

Nezumi chuckles, "I shouldn't say I'm glad, but I am."

Shion's hand suddenly presses against his chest, just above his heart. His red eyes are earnest as he gazes up at him, "You never had to worry."

_Never, not once, have I ever looked at anyone in that way except for you._

Nezumi's gaze softens, and he leans down to brush a kiss against Shion's forehead, "Apparently not," he murmurs against the skin there.

It is the closest he will come to saying "_Thank you_."

_End Chapter_


	4. Brave New World, Part II

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe; that belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _15_ of you, thank you very much!

_**Author's Note:**_Well…::sighs:: this took a little longer than I had intended, but heck…I think it's worth it ::grins::. I hope so, anyway. I do like this chapter—we discover a little bit more about what Shion's been up to, both the good…and the bad. We even get to see a little bit more of Inukashi. I hope you enjoy it!

_**Rating:**_ T/M (language)

_**Summary:**_Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Four: Brave New World (Part II)_

As the two young men slowly make their way to Karan Bakery, gray clouds start to scuttle across the horizon, occasionally obscuring the gradually setting sun. Shion knows enough about weather to reasonably predict that they will most likely have a storm in a few hours. Whether it will involve thunder and lightning or just rain, he doesn't yet know.

"How's your ankle?"

Nezumi's voice is soft, and the touch of his fingers against Shion's skin is warm. They are still holding hands.

Shion pauses to catch his breath, and Nezumi takes the opportunity to kneel beside him, carefully probing for any bruises or swelling with the fingers of his free hand.

Shion's heart throbs at the tenderness inherent in his examination, and he concludes ruefully that he will most likely be on the verge of tears for the rest of the week—his throat has almost completely closed up. _Again_. "It's fine," his voice is a croak.

Nezumi glances up in concern. Shion can only shake his head, fingertips brushing softly against Nezumi's arm in a wordless plea to stand.

Frowning, he does so. Shion chuckles thickly, "Really, I'm all right. You did a good job."

Nezumi regards him dubiously. "If you say so."

"I do. See?"

As soon as he states as much, a startled Nezumi finds himself pulled through the first few steps of a waltz.

_Wha…?_

It is very apparent that Shion has been practicing, and it is only Nezumi's kinesthetic memory that prevents him from tripping face first into the concrete.

Much to his embarrassment, he is panting and puffing—nearly huffing—by the time Shion dances them to the entrance of the next walkway.

His white-haired dancing partner chuckles and Nezumi glares up at him, wearing a prominent blush on his cheeks despite his scowl, "Any other surprises?"

Shion smiles, "Just this," and he brushes his lips over Nezumi's left eye.

The taller man's cheeks flame and he realizes, with some annoyance, that he can't even stay properly mad at him. "What was that for, then?" he mutters at last.

Shion shrugs gently, "A thank you."

The response is simple, very much in keeping with the Shion from three years ago. Any annoyance on Nezumi's part immediately vanishes.

"…Tch. You're welcome, idiot."

A hard squeeze around and about Shion's shoulders and waist accompanies Nezumi's response, startling its recipient. Nezumi moves away so quickly, however, that Shion is left to wonder if he simply imagined it.

He has enough presence of mind to keep his grip on Nezumi's hand, at least, and he chuckles again when he realizes the telltale burning of his friend's cheeks has yet to let up.

"Any other questions?" he asks as their walk resumes, his voice colored with amusement.

Nezumi ignores the tone, rubbing at the back of his neck as his blush subsides, "Well, yeah…"

_So many, you can't even imagine. It's been three fucking years—why did you wait for me, when you never knew for certain when, or even if I was coming back? Why did you hold yourself back? I wouldn't have minded…not really, at least. Three years…is such a long time. What happened to you? What gave you so much authority…that even someone like me was drawn in? But then…it's always been that way with us, hasn't it?_

The question he actually asks is somewhat less philosophical: "What the _hell_ happened back there? Or does it have some sort of top secret classification that I need special clearance for?"

His response startles a laugh out of Shion, "No, nothing like that." He sobers, and Nezumi instantly regrets his question because now Shion's eyes have gone so _dark_…"We don't have anything like that," he repeats softly, "…because of the Correctional Facility, you know?"

He did know, all too well.

Shion shakes his head, "No, and even if we did, I'd still tell you. I made that promise to you three years ago, if I recall correctly."

Nezumi's arm lifts to curl around Shion's shoulders, and his nose bumps against the side of the other nineteen-year-old's head. His sigh wafts through strands of white hair: "…I promised you the same."

Shion finally cracks a faint smile, shutting his eyes as he relishes the contact, "Where should I start?"

Nezumi nuzzles his nose into Shion's hair, "The beginning usually works best."

Shion smiles, opening his eyes…but it quickly turns into a grimace, "They were Cleaners."

Nezumi sucks in a sharp breath, his arm automatically tightening around Shion's shoulders.

_Shit. How many times have they-?_

"I didn't recognize any of them," Shion continues quietly. "I only knew who they were because of their tattoos."

"Their tattoos…?"

Nezumi's memory flashes back to the darkly inked, intricately connected geometric pattern he'd seen on their faces, "On the right cheek?"

"Yeah," Shion affirms softly. His next words nearly stop Nezumi's heart cold, "They've tried before, on occasion, but never so many and never all at once. I think they're becoming desperate."

"_Before…?" Does he mean this has happened before? That he…Fuck._

"I can't blame them, really," and Nezumi frowns when he realizes that there is _sadness_ in Shion's voice…_pain_, even though his own heart feels like it is being wrenched apart in a vise. "We _have_ disbanded most of the gang, after all."

_Shion…what the hell…? You…I can't believe you just fucking said that! They would have quite happily killed you, you moronic, airheaded idiot!_

Shion's fingertips brush his chin, causing Nezumi to snap his glare down to a pair of unrepentant red eyes. A smile twitches the corner of Shion's lips as he gazes up at him, "I know you don't want to hear me say that," his fingers curl gently around the swath of raven hair that has fallen between them, shifting it to the side as he continues speaking, "but you told me once…that you wanted 'Shion to stay Shion,' so I've done my damnedest to try."

Nezumi's jaw clenches at the unwelcome reminder of their conversation as they were marched relentlessly through the gates of the Correctional Facility—and at all of the other memories that go with it.

Shion smiles weakly, standing on tiptoe to press a small, apologetic kiss to Nezumi's mouth, before they continue walking towards the bakery.

"It's not been easy, though," his admittance is a sigh that comes a few minutes later, and it hitches on the end, just slightly. "You were right…"

"Was I?" Nezumi manages, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

_When you say it like that…I'm not sure I want to be._

Shion's fingers tighten fractionally where they have closed against his hip. "Just because the wall came down doesn't mean this is heaven. We're _working_ towards lower crime rates—and believe me, they're much lower than they were that first year—but we still have groups like the Cleaners, pockets of old gangs that haven't been dissolved, yet. We also have people—like you and Inukashi—from the former West Block, who have managed to survive this long because of their weapons and fighting skills. There's a clause written into the rules that allows for it, but in-depth investigations are run, sometimes daily, if things like what just happened occur."

"So, what…am I going to be psychoanalyzed or something?"

He means it as a joke (sort of), because Shion's red gaze has grown unbearably heavy and solemn, but he realizes a little too late that it is more off-color than he would like.

Shion's eyes flash, "_Absolutely __not_!"

Nezumi jerks at his sharp voice. Shion feels him tense, and blows out a harsh breath, "Sorry, Nezumi. I'm a little sensitive about that because of…"

"Safu?" Nezumi completes knowingly, his quiet voice a distinct contrast to Shion's.

Another breath; Shion leans into his side and nods, "Yeah," he acknowledges softly. He swallows, "Those…brains and…people…too."

Nezumi pales, gulping back nausea as he fights against the images clamoring at the forefront of his mind, "Thanks for the reminder, Shion."

A faint smile flickers across Shion's lips, "Sorry."

Nezumi huffs out an irritated breath, lightly pressing his fingertips to them in response, "Stop apologizing, idiot. _Seriously_."

Shion blinks. "Sorry…?"

Nezumi groans, dropping his fingers. They end up falling to Shion's chest. "How do you know so much about it, anyway?"

He's talking about the investigations. Shion raises an eyebrow, "Why is that such a shock? You know I'm a member of the Reconstruction Committee, right? We were all assigned specific duties, departments we would be in charge of overhauling. I was given the Bureau of Public Security and several others. Not that it really matters…we help _each other_ out…"

Somewhere in Nezumi's chest, his heart constricts, aching with something that feels a lot like _pride_:

_I feel somewhat like a mama bird whose chicks have all grown and flown away,_ he notes wryly.

"You've done a fine job, I see," he murmurs.

Shion's eyes fly up to his. Nezumi is hard-pressed not to laugh when he sees how _red_ the other boy's cheeks have turned.

Shion looks completely bewildered and utterly startled, but a moment later, a beautiful smile breaks out on his lips, "Thank you," he whispers. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

Nezumi snorts fondly when he notices the tears that have collected in the corners of Shion's eyes. "Airhead," he murmurs, voice so tender that Shion shyly breaks their gaze.

Reaching out, Nezumi brushes gently at the moisture beginning to track down Shion's cheeks. "Don't you dare start crying again," he mutters.

It wins him a rather garbled laugh.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As they make their way up the pedestrian street where Karan Bakery sits, Nezumi nudges Shion gently in the side, "Hey…so what happens now?"

Shion blinks at him, very clearly confused. "About what?"

_I'd like to say…"With us," but…_

"Those Cleaners…they were taken in to custody, right? So what happens to them?"

Yes, Nezumi knows it is a strange question—even stranger because he doesn't usually ask a question without a purpose in mind, but…

_If I'm going to stay, I'd at least like to know what to expect with matters like this, because if they try for you again…and I'm sure they will…there's no way in hell I am going stand back and let it happen._

Shion sighs and Nezumi notices it catches on the end with exhaustion. He suddenly wonders how often Shion is able to take a break from his duties, and thinks it is far more likely that he hasn't _allowed_ himself to take a break from said duties until today.

"Well…they can't press charges because they instigated the attack. And because you were defending me, and I paid for their medical treatment, I don't think we need to worry about any fallout. They'll go into counseling for a year while under the Bureau's custody, and we'll see what happens after that. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't…I'm fully aware of that now."

Nezumi's stomach twists with an odd mix of regret and relief. Smiling sadly, he reaches down with his free hand to brush Shion's fingers where they are intertwined with his own, "I never wanted you to learn that, you know," he murmurs. From Shion's hand, his fingertips drift up to tenderly trace the edge of the other young man's scar as he manages a genuine smile, "I'm glad to see, at least, that you still believe in life over all. Shion _is_ still Shion, and…" He leans down, all fluid elegance, and captures Shion's lips, sliding his hand gently around the base of Shion's head. He parts with the other's lips only long enough and far enough to murmur against them, "I'm glad…to still be able to say that."

Then his lips are on Shion's again, this time pressing down much harder as he seeks to convey the utter _relief_ he feels at that statement.

Perhaps it is unfortunate that the place he has chosen to do so happens to be in full view of Karan Bakery, where Shion's mother and Inukashi are still waiting.

Nezumi and Shion startle apart as a wolf whistle from Inukashi interrupts them, "About damn time!"

She isn't just talking about their arrival, either.

Karan sniffles, and when Nezumi realizes where they are, he drops his burning face into his hands with a groan.

Shion's own face is swathed with color, but he manages a soft, somewhat embarrassed chuckle that does nothing to wipe the look of pure joy off his face, "Erm…we're back?"

IOIOIOIOIOI

The moment they step through the door into the bakery, Karan has her arms around both of them. She is crying, more happily and in sheer relief than with any other emotion. Inukashi stands right behind her, and blows out a breath, "Geez…you two idiots really did a number this time."

Nezumi's eyes are steely as they glare at her—she's expected that much. What she _doesn't_ expect is his fierce blush and the softly murmured, "Sorry," he presses to Karan's hair.

_Heh. So even rats can change._

She smirks, rather enjoying this new side of Nezumi, but before she can voice her thought, Shion's long-absent smile flashes her way over Karan's shoulder. "Thanks for worrying about us."

Unfortunately, that smile has the same impact it always has: Inukashi's cheeks flame. "…_C-Che_! I wasn't worried about _you_, y-you clueless-!"

Something wet slips down Inukashi's cheek; she freezes, tasting salt on her lips.

_D-Damn, why am I crying?_

She knows the answer, though: Nezumi's leaving…had thrown such a _veil_ over Shion's smile. A year after _that idiotic Rat_ had left, Shion's smile…had disappeared altogether. His "smile" could hardly even be considered a shadow of its former self, and Inukashi had been shaken to realize that she _missed_ it. Shion had seemed almost as much of a stranger without his smile as he had when he'd confronted her about Safu's coat three years ago.

Now, though…

Bright, glowing, filled with general-airheaded-bliss-and-delight, it blazes at her. Fiercely.

She claps a startled hand to her mouth when she chokes on a sob.

Immediately noticing her difficulty, Shion slips out of Karan's arms after dropping a kiss to her cheek and makes his way over to younger girl. When his arms wind gently around her, Inukashi is hardly in any state to refuse his comfort. It isn't as if this is something new, either—numerous times over the past couple of years she has had to comfort him, when the ache of losing Nezumi has grown too much to bear. It is about damn time he returned the favor.

_Stupid feminine emotions—why did I have to be born a girl?_

Shion's soft chuckle alerts her that she has spoken her thought out loud. Inukashi buries her blazing face in his shoulder. "Hey, now," his voice is warm, happy (has she _ever_ heard it so joyful in the past three years?), "don't say that. Who would have become Sion's mama if you weren't?"

"Mmph, I suppose it has to be good for something," her voice is a disgruntled mutter, but the ache in her chest is easing. At last, she is able to pull back with a sniffle and, as she does so, she just catches sight of Nezumi turning away from them, his face twisting into an expression a lot like _jealousy_.

The madcap grin that abruptly lights up Inukashi's face has Shion instantly on guard. "What?" he asks with an appropriate sense of wariness.

_Ha…no longer in denial, are you, Nezumi?_

Inukashi places her hand firmly in the center of Shion's back and gives him a light shove in Nezumi's direction. "_OI! Lover boy! Catch!_"

Her call is directed at Nezumi. Shion stumbles, staggers, and immediately crumples into Nezumi's chest, squeezing his eyes shut as his head abruptly decides to begin a nauseating spin.

Even Inukashi realizes something is wrong when Shion is unable to gain his feet. She doesn't need to take in Nezumi's widened eyes or the sudden paling of his skin to see that.

"_Shit_!"

She immediately bounds to Shion's side, Karan on her heels, to see what the damage is.

_Not this again! Tch. The airheaded idiot!_

Shion faints as Nezumi lowers them both to the ground, still curled up in the taller boy's lap.

_End Chapter_


	5. Thou Canst Not Be False, Part I

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe; that belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _18_ of you, thank you!

_**Author's Note:**_ This chapter turned out to be another monster ::grins sheepishly::. Therefore, I decided once again to split it. The title is actually an adapted quote from Shakespeare's tragedy _Hamlet_.

I really do like this chapter, though—I think it might actually be one of my favorites. I didn't realize how much I liked Inukashi as a character until I started writing her, and although Nezumi will always be my favorite in this series, both she and Shion are starting to get up there, too. Please enjoy!

_**Rating:**_ T/M (language, issues, things get a little heated between our two boys)

_**Summary: **_Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Five: Thou Canst Not Be False (Part I)_

Sheets rustle near his head. The mattress dips as a warm weight shifts against his side.

With a soft moan, Shion cracks his eyes open. For a brief moment, he wonders if he is still unconscious: it is so dark, so quiet…then he becomes aware of the soft exhalations against his neck and the steady _ba-thump, ba-thump_ that sounds close to his ear.

The mattress shifts again. Something feather-like brushes his cheeks and forehead.

"Shion…?"

His name is but a breath. When he searches out its source in the darkness above him, a pair of eyes—more silver than gray in the moonlight—glitter down at him.

_Ah…it's been so long since I've last seen them like this._

A tired smile breaks out on his lips. "Nezumi…" he murmurs, voice worn and exhausted, but still so, _so_ happy.

Nezumi leans down until their faces are but a breath's span apart. This close, Shion can see the painfully concentrated attention the other boy pays to his every movement, to his every _breath_…

_I think I worried him._

At this proximity, the strands of Nezumi's hair slide easily between his fingers and he makes ample use of that soothing motion now. "…I didn't mean to worry you. This happens sometimes, when I don't eat or get enough sleep."

Nezumi groans, dropping his face into the crook of Shion's neck. "You _moron_…! I thought you were seriously _hurt_. You've been out for four fucking _hours_, Shion! Your mama was worried sick!"

_So were you, apparently,_ Shion notes quietly.

His free hand joins the first, cupping the back of Nezumi's head and tangling his fingers still further in raven hair. Tucking a small kiss against the soft strands curling around Nezumi's ear, Shion whispers, "It's not as bad as it looks."

"_My ass it isn't_! Shion, you-!"

He is cut off by Shion's lips pressing firmly against his own. Hazily, Nezumi reflects that if Shion ever wants to shut him up, then this is a spectacular way to do it: his adrenaline is so high, and his emotions are so vexed, that keeping his hands to himself and his body under control is damn near impossible.

His hands fly up to Shion's face as he roughly reciprocates the kiss, tangling his own fingers into Shion's hair and forcing the other young man's head back into the pillows as he kisses him without restraint. His message is loud and clear:

_You scared the hell out of me!_

Shion's fingers clench in his hair and a surprised moan is drawn out through his lips as Nezumi's tongue demands entrance to his mouth.

He gives it, always willing, but his response has a very different effect on Nezumi:

At that first moan, Nezumi's body flushes with so many different emotions and reactions that the most he can do is cling to the collar of Shion's pajamas and do his damnedest not to drown.

His hips jerk forward, pinning Shion to the bed as his hands scrabble for purchase on any piece of clothing that they can find. They feel like they're burning. Wherever his hands make contact with Shion's skin, they feel like they're burning.

Then they brush Shion's stomach and the other nineteen-year-old convulses beneath him with a soft cry, bringing their hips and pelvic bones in direct contact with each other.

Nezumi tears his lips away from Shion's with a desperate snarl as their bodies press together, pleasure shooting straight through his core, "…_Fuck_! Sh-Shion, we _can't_-!"

His breathing is ragged and uneven. His own stomach is convulsing, his chest heaving…sweat has already beaded his forehead, but his mind is reeling—at a thousand kilometers per minute.

_Shit. I can't do this! He's not ready, and I-!_

"Nezumi…?"

Shion's fingers brush his cheek, coming away damp.

"Nezumi…you're crying! What-?"

Nezumi gives a savage snarl, burying his face back against Shion's neck and choking back a frustrated moan.

Oh, Gods, he wants this. More than almost anything else he wants this, this closeness to Shion, but—

"…Do I really scare you so much?"

Shion's voice is quiet, but it gets Nezumi to look at him. Concern burns in his red eyes, apology…and a little bit of hurt, too.

_Fuck._

"It's not you," he's desperate to explain himself. "Shion…believe me…it's _not_ you. If this goes any further…I won't be able to stop, Shion. I really won't."

The hurt is mollified, at least, but now Shion is confused…and a bit angry. "Why is that a problem?"

Nezumi's gaze is disbelieving, approaching scandalized: "_Shion!_ You…don't tell me you seriously think you're up to _that_ after what happened today! You just _collapsed_ a few hours ago!"

He is completely startled by the warm laughter that suddenly shakes Shion's body, "Nezumi…I appreciate your concern, truly I do. But I'm not going to break. I'm not made of glass. Of all people…_you_ should know that."

Nezumi sits back on Shion's legs, slightly stunned. He is still very aware that he is straddling Shion, but their position is the last thing on his mind right now.

He's forgotten this, the sheer tenacity and resilience that Shion possesses. And it reassures him a thousand-fold more than any well-meaning or placating words ever could.

_And Shion knows this._

Swallowing, Nezumi rolls off of him, utterly unsure how to handle the rawness and sense of exposure Shion's knowledge of his idiosyncrasies elicits from him.

Before Shion came into his life, no one, not even Inukashi, could claim to know shit about who he was or what motivated him. With Shion's re-entry into his life three years ago, that mask had been spectacularly shot to hell.

It had scared him, and he'd run from it, run from the boy who knew his heart. It has taken three years, and several brutal months of self-reflection, but he finally realizes that the only place he will find some measure of peace is at the side of the boy he'd left behind. He has to go back to move forward, and despite how illogical it sounds…he _wants _to.

…But that doesn't make this situation any easier to handle right now.

_So respond how you normally wouldn't!_

…

Why does his conscience have to sound so much like the airheaded idiot currently lying beside him?

"Nezumi…?"

_Speaking of His Majesty…_

Groaning, Nezumi buries his face in the sheets of Shion's bed, resuming his previous position—curled up close to Shion along the edge of the mattress. "…You're such an idiot, Shion."

"Am I?" Shion's response is mild, but the rest of his statement is implied:

_You're not making much sense yourself at the moment, Nezumi._

Nezumi's hand lightly raps him across the chest. "Shut up. It's true."

He is grateful to hear Shion's quiet chuckle, "Of course it is."

Nezumi shifts, edging closer to Shion until he can bury his face in the other boy's shoulder. "…Shion?"

"Mmm?" Shion has rolled over onto his side by now and his fingers have once again woven themselves into Nezumi's hair. His nose nudges into the ebony strands.

"…I'd give you anything you wanted, you know. If it were at all in my power…I'd give it. But if you ask me to do it at the expense of your health…" his jaw sets and he pulls back, silver-gray eyes smoldering, "No way in hell is that happening, Shion. So you'd _damn_ well start taking better care of yourself!"

Shion looks rather startled. Half a dozen emotions flicker across his face: anger, amusement, fondness, exasperation…but it finally settles into a softness that has Nezumi's cheeks and ears burning. "What if I promise to try?" he murmurs.

Nezumi scoffs softly, intending to remark that instead of _promising_, Shion should be _doing_, but at that moment, Karan's voice carries up the stairs, "Nezumi?"

Nezumi sighs quietly, standing up. "I'll go reassure your mama." Abruptly, he firmly plants one hand on the bed beside Shion's head and leans down so they are at eye level. "Don't you dare try moving, Shion. You move, and you're dead. Got it? I'll bring you some food up. Just so you know…I'm not above force feeding you if necessary. Understand, your Highness?"

A tired smile breaks out on Shion's face. "Nezumi…" he murmurs, lifting his hand to cradle the taller boy's cheek.

Nezumi blushes faintly at the touch, closing the remaining distance between them with a small kiss. The darkness hides his tender expression as he pulls back, moving his lips to Shion's forehead where they linger for a moment before shifting away. "I'll be back in a minute, Shion," he whispers, brushing his fingers through the other boy's hair before stepping towards the door, "Just rest."

_That sounds more like an order than a request,_ Shion notes with quiet amusement, but doesn't have enough energy or will to object.

IOIOIOIOIOI

As the door falls shut behind him, Nezumi slumps against it with a groan, burying his face in his hands as he tries to come to terms with what has just happened.

He isn't _used_ to worrying so earnestly over someone. Even though having Shion live with him three years ago had given him a crash course in what it meant to protect someone—especially someone as dear to him as Shion—it barely even scratched the surface of how _this_ feels. He thinks he can detect his hands faintly trembling.

"Hmph. I _was_ planning to yell at you, but I guess it'll have to wait for another day. _Damn_…and I was looking forward to it, too."

Nezumi snaps his head up at the disgruntled mutter, staring at Inukashi who is standing in front of him, arms crossed lightly over her chest. She fixes him with a surprisingly impassive look (considering she is usually scowling at him); tinted just slightly with something that looks a lot like _compassion_.

He can't even muster the will to glare at her. "…How long has he been like this?"

And _damn it_, his voice_ isn't_ that fragile, but he can hardly take it back now.

Inukashi glances away, and he thinks he catches a wisp of sadness in her dark eyes, but that might just be his imagination. "Caught on, have you?"

Nezumi straightens, hands dropping to his sides where they clench tightly into fists. There is so much in her tone, and he doesn't like what it implies. "If you mean I've _caught on_ to the fact that he has _absolutely no regard for his own health_, then yes! Why the _hell_ didn't you or Karan say something!"

Inukashi's smile is sardonic as she turns back to him. "Well, we would have, but your _nonexistent mailbox_ was sadly out of commission. You should really talk to your post office, you know. I _suspect_ your mailman is a bit of a _coward_."

Humiliation flushes Nezumi's cheeks and he glances away, ignoring the stare Inukashi now has locked on his back. "…I don't need you to tell me that," his voice is very quiet, "I know I'm a coward. But I'm fucking _trying_, all right?"

He's turned back to her now, and he looks so _angry_, and so _confused_, and so heartbreakingly _frustrated _and _worried_, that Inukashi—for the first time in her life—regrets something she has said to him.

She hasn't been idle these past three years—Shion hasn't let her. He's asked her for information regarding Elyurias, the forest folk, and anything about Nezumi in general. Where is he? Has she heard anything from him? Has one of her sources spotted him? Is he healthy? Is he _alive_?

Half of them have been rhetorical questions, but the other half…she knows Nezumi better now than she ever thought she would after almost three years of keeping tabs on him. Truthfully, more than she ever wanted to.

At the very least, it has helped her understand him better.

"Nezumi…" she certainly isn't apologetic, but at least she can give him this, "You know Shion is in love with you, don't you?"

Nezumi's tired stare speaks volumes. "Why does it matter?"

Although she has promised herself she won't shout, Inukashi is unable to bite back a snarl, "Why does it _matter_? _Think_ for a minute, idiot! What if I told you he first started collapsing from overwork and exhaustion almost exactly three years ago, huh? How would you respond then?"

_Like I just gutted him, apparently,_ Inukashi notes drily a few moments later, scowling to herself when there is no response. _Damn__. That's not how it was supposed to come out._

Unfortunately, she is just angry enough with Nezumi, and just upset enough about the fact that he has abandoned Shion for _three fucking years_, that she refuses to take her words back.

Brusquely, she shoves past him, pausing with her hand on the door before entering Shion's bedroom, "I doubt my forgiveness means shit to you, but just so you know…Karan and Shion already _have_ forgiven you. For that reason, and that reason _only_, I'm willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself. Don't you dare fuck it up."

Then she is gone, through the door and into Shion's room behind him, leaving Nezumi to wonder how the hell he is supposed live up to that type of expectation.

IOIOIOIOIOI

Shion is sitting up in his bed when she enters the room, and her face relaxes into a vague smile upon seeing him awake. "Should you be up, Boy Wonder?"

Reaching over to the lamp on his desk, she flips it on and pulls out his chair, spinning it around so that she can flop down onto it.

A faint smile touches Shion's lips. "You're just as bad as Nezumi, you know."

Inukashi shrugs, far less affected than he thought she would be, "You know he has every right to be worried, don't you? Despite how much I detest that fact."

"Inukashi-"

"We've been over this, Shion. I'll forgive him because you have, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"…You've found out some more information, haven't you?"

"Whatever clued you in?"

Shion's smirk is weary, but he raises an eyebrow, letting her know he isn't beaten yet, "Perhaps the fact that you're being unusually tolerant today? I heard what you said to him before you came in, you know."

Inukashi's cheeks color, "_Che_…is there anything that brain of yours _doesn't _know?"

"Several things, incidentally, but I doubt you want to hear them," Shion's smile is just as tired as his smirk.

Inukashi lightly flicks his forehead with her finger. "So lay down, idiot, and I'll tell you what I found."

Shion doesn't move, watching her with an attentive red gaze.

Inukashi rolls her eyes, folding her arms across the back of the chair and resting her chin on them as she smirks fondly. "Stubborn ass. Fine, then…_you're_ explaining to your overprotective caveman downstairs why you're sitting up when he comes back, not me."

Shion chuckles softly. "Nezumi is not a caveman, Inukashi."

"No?" she snorts derisively. "He certainly spent enough time those rocky tunnels under the Correctional Facility that you loved so much."

Inukashi knows just how far she can push Shion when it comes to talking about the Correctional Facility. Three years on, and he has given her the less painful details of his little foray into Hell. That doesn't say much, of course, and it certainly doesn't mean she likes bringing it up, but tonight she has a reason:

"Rou sent Nezumi's robotic vermin back to me last night. You remember? I mentioned it to you when we were at the orphanage today…" she smirks slightly. "Not that I really expect you to remember. You decided to play hero before I got the chance to tell you anything else. The two kiddies are fine, by the way."

Shion sends a small smile her way. "I know—Nezumi and I saw them before we came here. Actually…I never thanked you for that, did I?"

"Bah," Inukashi waves him off, "it's over with now, so it doesn't matter," but she is wearing a very small smile, so he knows she appreciates it. "In any case, Rou had some interesting little tidbits to share with me. For instance, did you know that our rat's tribe lived _only_ near Rose Town and No.6?" When Shion blanches, Inukashi sighs and buries her face in her arms, "Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, too. Rou looked. He searched for _years_, talked to everyone he possibly could, but none of the other city-states had anything like it. If there were any other "indigenous" people at any point, they've all long since died out or gone into hiding. Not that I blame them—native tribes don't seem to have a very long life-expectancy, especially if they're part of the minority."

"Nezumi's the last one—the _very last_ _one_?" Shion's voice cracks. Inukashi knows that if she raises her head, she'll see that he is on the verge of crying.

She hates that look on him.

"Yup. Sucks don't it?" she sounds thoroughly depressed.

_I may not like the rat all that much, but I'd never wish this on him…_

Even in her own thoughts, she can't admit that she's grown to consider Nezumi something of a friend. Certainly, he isn't Shion, but he has his own brand of kindness and in the deepest part of her heart, Inukashi finds herself crying for him.

She finally looks up at the white-haired boy, "You still intend to follow through on this plan of yours? 'Cause, you know…if there was ever anything you could do for him, well, more than you have already…then that might be it. I have some information on that, too, actually. You interested?"

Shion straightens noticeably. "Of course! What else did Rou say?"

Inukashi is able to smirk a bit wider this time, "He's impressed by your research capabilities, apparently. In the message he sent, he just _would not_ _shut up_ about all the different rituals you could try…"

IOIOIOIOIOI

(Thirty Minutes Later)

When Nezumi shoulders open the door half an hour later, carefully balancing a full tray in his hands, Inukashi is watching Shion doze with a soft, half-smile. Whatever snit she had been in when she confronted him in the hall seems to have long since dissipated…not that he can really blame her for being angry in the first place:

_Hell, I deserve it. I know that…but it's not like I need her shoving it in my face. I already know how much I must have hurt Shion._

Somehow, Nezumi can't bring himself to tell her to fuck off. He suspects the food he is carrying has something to do with it: there is stew, and cherry cake, and bread on the tray, as well as hot cocoa. Nearly an exact replica of the meal Shion gave him seven years ago. How on earth is he supposed to muster the proper irritation necessary knowing that?

Inukashi reaches out and nudges Shion's sleeping form with her toe as he enters, "Oi…! Sleepy-head…! Lover boy's back."

Nezumi scowls at her for the newly-acquired nickname, but doesn't verbally object; half of him hopes Shion will continue to doze. He isn't sure what the other boy needs more right now—rest or food. At this point, he'll take either one of them.

Shion wakes easily enough, smiling warmly at her, "Oh…you're still here. I thought you'd be headed to the hotel by now."

Inukashi shrugs, standing and stretching, "Yeah, well…Sion'll be fine with Rikiga and the dogs for a little while. Hmph. If I weren't afraid he'd corrupt the kid I would've stayed a little bit longer. Your mama's stew smells fantastic."

Shion's smile is still tired. "It usually does."

Catching the anxious look Nezumi sends Shion's way out of the corner of her eye, Inukashi smirks, "By the way, Shion…" her tone has both boys watching her warily. "Your _boyfriend_ here could use some reassurance. Perhaps you should show him a few of things you've learned, hmm?"

Shion turns bright red: "INUKASHI!"

The girl's laughter trails her out the door.

_End Chapter_


	6. Thou Canst Not Be False, Part II

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe; that belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _21_ of you, thank you!

_**Author's Note:**_ Erm, yeah…::sweatdrops::. Just a head's up: you might want to read something seriously fluffy after this. The issues Nezumi and Shion deal with in this chapter are rather heavy, and Nezumi doesn't exactly react in the best way (although, Shion's there to hug him, so I guess that's okay…::sheepishly::). Eh…there's a few things I might like to rewrite when I have the time, but in spite of that, this _is_ one of my more favorite chapters, so I hope you enjoy it!

_**Rating:**_T/M (language, issues)

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Six: Thou Canst Not be False (Part II)_

Shion's cheeks continue burning long after Inukashi leaves the room.

Three years ago, amidst the haze and blinding, burning pain that consumed Shion whole as he battled Elyurias's parasitic wasp, he clearly recalls Nezumi's voice (as it did many times in the three days that followed) crying out with all the passion and pain of his heart:

"_You don't know anything! Not about books or sex or fighting…! Yet you're still willing to give up…! Shion…open your eyes!"_

He has since taken that cry to heart: books…he's read so many of them. Poetry, plays, classics, realistic, fantastic…he's since stopped keeping count. Fighting…if today's little episode is anything to go by, he still has a lot to learn, but still…he _is_ learning.

But sex…and love…and everything that goes with it…that is harder to learn. It is not something you can really read about in books—although hundreds of authors have tried. Some nearly succeed, have moved him to tears and a rush of feeling so many times…but in the end, _nothing_ could have prepared him for this…this dull, needy ache…the desire to cherish and protect and just _be_ with Nezumi, however possible, in as many ways _as_ possible…

He's asked Inukashi's advice…and gotten far more than he ever bargained for.

_I just hope Nezumi doesn't take it the wrong way._

"So…" Nezumi's voice is casual as he carefully slips the tray he has been carrying into Shion's lap, and the other boy inwardly groans at the prospect of more teasing. "Anything I ought to know? I certainly wouldn't object if you-"

"_Nezumi_!"

A pillow in the face cuts the slightly older boy off rather quickly.

"_I'm still a virgin!_"

Nezumi cracks up laughing, a brilliant blush flaring on his cheeks. "Such tactfulness, your Highness," he teases. "It is a wonder your courtiers aren't all over you~!"

Nezumi is flirting with him, Shion realizes rather dazedly. He knows he should flirt back—Inukashi has taught him how, after all (even if she _does_ spend half those lessons in hysterics).

He is somewhat surprised, however, by what leaves his mouth, instead: "There _have_ been a few."

Nezumi stops laughing. "_What_…?"

Shion shrugs gingerly, taking a bite of stew. After chewing it carefully and swallowing, he clears his throat and states, a little firmer, "As I said…there have been a few. I simply told them I was already taken. That's all I could say, really…I am not used to the type of attention you are, Nezumi. And after all…it's true."

Nezumi has no response for that. He _can't_ respond—his throat has gone all tight. Confronted by such stark proof that Shion has remained unwaveringly loyal to him—even though it has been three years, even though he doesn't fucking _deserve_ that kind of fidelity and faith—Nezumi does the only thing he can:

Climbing onto the bed behind Shion, he wraps his arms and legs around the smaller man, burying his face between Shion's shoulder blades.

Pressed so close, Shion can feel him shaking.

His spoon clatters against the bowl as he drops it, the mix of aromas and tastes serving to remind him of exactly _why_ Nezumi is trembling.

His head whips over his shoulder as he strains to see Nezumi, but all that meets his gaze is a disheveled fountain of raven hair. "Nezumi…?!"

Nezumi's arms tighten around his middle. "Shion…" his voice is muffled against the fabric stretched across the other young man's back, "If you don't start eating right this fucking second, I seriously _will_ shove that spoon down your throat. Shut the hell up and _eat_. Questions can come later."

"Such language," Shion teases gently, grateful, at least, that he can respond with this. "Really, how you charm so many people is beyond me."

He doesn't mention, of course, that he is one of those people Nezumi has charmed—indeed, has kept charmed for all seven years of their shared existence.

He thinks Nezumi may know it, anyway. A light chuckle rises in his throat as he realizes that the heat seeping through the fabric of his shirt is situated just about where Nezumi's face presses against his spine.

IOIOIOIOIOI

(Twenty Minutes Later)

"Can I ask you something?"

Nezumi gives a dour hum, critically eyeing the side of Shion's face from where he has peeked over his shoulder, still attached to the other boy's waist, "Depends…have you eaten everything on that tray?"

Shion rolls his eyes and gestures to his desk, "Find out for yourself."

He doesn't really expect Nezumi to get up and look, but when the other boy actually _does_…Shion is torn between laughing and gaping outright. He presses a hand to his mouth, muffling a sudden urge to laugh as Nezumi gives a satisfied grunt and picks up the tray, intending to return it to Karan downstairs.

Shion lets him go, too afraid he will burst into laughter if he tries to say anything. This overly-worried, overly-protective side of Nezumi actually isn't as new as it seems. The only thing that _is_ new is that the other young man no longer feels a need to hide it, and that particular change is both welcome and refreshing.

It is therefore quite easy for Shion to remark with a quiet chuckle as Nezumi re-enters the room a few minutes later, "I never took you for a mother hen, Nezumi."

…

Nezumi immediately drops down on the edge of the mattress, blush flaring, and turns his burning face away from Shion's amused gaze, "Why is that such a surprise?"

It is a disgruntled mutter. Shion finds it (and the blush that accompanies it) absolutely adorable. "It's not really," he laughs. "I'm just glad you aren't trying to hide it."

"You would know," Nezumi grumbles. "You _were_ the one who implied I had been spying on you all four years I was away when we first met again, after all."

"Did you, really?"

"…What would you do if I said yes?"

Shion stares at him. "Are you serious?" his soft question borders on incredulous.

Red tinges Nezumi's cheeks as he turns back around. "…Yeah," he murmurs, embarrassed.

He is met by Shion's deadpan. "You do know that's a little obsessive?"

Heat flies into Nezumi's cheeks. "I was worried about you!"

He is utterly startled by Shion's chuckle, which steadily grows into full-blown laughter. "Oh, _Nezumi_…! Only _you _could make something like that sound so precious."

Nezumi's entire face colors, "Will you stop laughing?" he mutters from between his fingers where he has hidden his face. "It's not _that_ funny."

His eyes go wide when Shion abruptly shoves his face between his shoulder and neck, still laughing with warm abandon. "Consider it your penance for leaving me behind for three years."

It is the first time Shion has brought up their separation and Nezumi's hand unconsciously clenches where it has wrapped around the other nineteen-year-old's hip, turning the atmosphere much more serious.

An awkward silence falls between them, the first since Nezumi's return. He swallows uncomfortably, "…Are you mad?" he whispers.

"_Of course I am_!" Nezumi's heart drops three stories when he realizes there is liquid starting to pool in the hollow of his throat. "You left me alone for _three years_, and couldn't be bothered to send so much as a note letting me know you were _all right_…! I didn't even know whether you were _alive_ until one of Inukashi's informants spotted you in No. 5!"

Nezumi abandons his shame in favor of gaping slightly at Shion. "How long have you…"

Color seeps into Shion's cheeks and creeps up to his ears as he digs his face still further into the crook of Nezumi's neck. "A while," he mumbles against the warm skin there.

Cautiously, Nezumi reaches out to wrap his arm around Shion's waist, tightening his grip when the other young man doesn't shrug it off (sinking into it, actually). He sighs heavily, "I did expect you to be mad, but…Inukashi seems to think you've already forgiven me."

Shion's face pulls back and he stares at Nezumi with something equivalent to shock. "Why on earth _wouldn't_ I?"

Another pregnant pause fills the space between them. Nezumi feels like crying. "Y-You…" he swallows. "Shion…you _have_…?"

Shion sighs, "Isn't that obvious? I'm mad that you left, and I'm upset that you didn't at least _contact_ me, but…I do know why."

_Well, at least that makes one of us._

Nezumi can't honestly recall at the moment _why_ he left with such haste. There are hundreds of reasons (too scared, too close, so _foreign_…), but all of them seem to pale in comparison to this one man's generous nature and kind heart.

It is hardly surprising that he finds himself falling in love with Shion all over again.

With a sigh, he holds out his free hand. Shion quirks an eyebrow, but slowly slides his hand into Nezumi's.

The other nineteen-year-old brings it up to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the skin of his palm. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing another kiss to his wrist.

"It's f-fine," Shion manages to stammer, heat and headiness rushing directly to his head. He has to lie down, or he fears he will _fall_ down, given all the sensations currently coursing through his body.

Nezumi follows him: another kiss is placed against the vein of his forearm; a fourth to the crook of his elbow…Shion's fingers stumble and catch, gripping tightly to the fabric of Nezumi's shirt as kisses patter all along his skin.

He has lost the ability to speak. They've already said so much and not enough, and what is perhaps the most important question has gotten caught in his throat:

_Will you stay? Please, please, please tell me you are going to stay…_

Nezumi's lips travel up to his shoulder, and then to his neck. Somewhere along the way Shion's top slides off his shoulder, but he can't honestly bring himself to mind—Nezumi's free hand has gently pushed itself underneath his shirt and now it is roaming, splaying itself flat against his rapidly beating heart a moment before moving on.

Shion shudders and whimpers when Nezumi's lips catch him on the particularly sensitive juncture between his shoulder and neck. A shiver wracks his body from head to foot as he struggles to process the new and utterly foreign reactions the other young man's fingers and lips are able to elicit from him, and a million nerve endings snap awake.

Abruptly, Nezumi pulls back, an unsteady hand flying to his flushed face. "S-Sorry, I got carried away."

Dizzy with not-quite-disappointment, Shion is nonetheless able to detect the minute tremors coursing through Nezumi's body. Wrapping his shaking arms around Nezumi's neck, he pulls the other young man down, pinning him tightly against his chest.

Nezumi doesn't object, and their legs tangle together as he gracefully flops down on top of Shion, long raven hair spilling out of its loose ponytail and across the other boy's chest.

It is very much déjà vu for Shion, who can't stop the fond chuckle that rises in his throat. "I don't mind," he whispers, slightly out of breath.

Nezumi's fingers clench and curl into the front of his shirt, and he buries his face there, listening to Shion's gradually calming heartbeat. Shion's own fingers stroke tenderly through his hair and they are silent awhile, until he murmurs, voice barely audible, "Nezumi…?"

"Mm?" the question is a mere vibration against his chest.

"Have you ever…you know…?"

A delicate snort of laughter shakes Nezumi's frame. "Had sex? Come now, Shion, can't you even say it?"

Red eyes roll. "Fine, then. _Sex_. But I'm not talking about the West Block, Nezumi."

The boy on top of him involuntarily tenses; Shion has known for over three years that Nezumi has kept this part of his past hidden from him—he's just not entirely sure why. It isn't as though he thinks any less of him—he actually would have preferred it if Nezumi told him straight out (even though he knows it probably never would have happened).

But these are wounds (he hopes) he can fix. He just needs to know whether Nezumi will _allow_ them to be fixed.

Shion presses a kiss to his forehead. "You did what you had to in order to survive. I can't blame you for that."

"…That doesn't change the fact that it happened," Nezumi whispers at last, keeping his face buried in Shion's chest.

He isn't ashamed—exactly—but he doesn't think he can face Shion now, when he has tried _so hard_ not to let it bother him.

"No, it doesn't," Shion agrees softly, "but that's not what I meant. What I _meant_, Nezumi, is have you ever had sex…with someone who loves you?"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Blood thunders loudly in Nezumi's ears. Color breaks out on his cheekbones and his palms start to sweat.

_Have I ever had sex with someone who loves me? Seriously, Shion? Did you seriously just ask that? Don't you know the answer already?_

The thought, the _idea _of actually being together with someone like that...of participating in such an intimate act because he _wants _to, and not because he _has _to, isn't something he can fathom. It isn't something he _knows_, and it leaves him entirely at a loss.

He can only shake his head, knowing without having to look up that Shion's eyes have probably filled with tears.

_Damn empath._

"…That makes two of us, then," Shion's murmur is buried in his hair. Nezumi isn't quite sure he has understood him correctly until Shion whispers, "It will be your first time, too."

This shouldn't be such a big deal, but Nezumi's throat has gone and almost completely closed up. "I guess so," his response is strangled.

_You goddamn idiot…How the fuck to you get off saying such things? Don't you know what it does to me?_

"…Nezumi?" Shion's voice is soft when it speaks up a few moments later, and Nezumi is vaguely aware that he has since clenched his eyes shut and grit his teeth. A hand strokes through his hair, and its fingers tangle there, a warm, heavy weight, "It's all right to cry."

Trouble is, he's cried so fucking much already that he doesn't _want_ to cry now, and especially not over something like this. It is in the past, it shouldn't _matter_ anymore…but even Nezumi has to acknowledge that he will never fully heal until he can face his past head on.

As the first beads of moisture make their way down his cheeks, Nezumi's eyes shoot open:

_Shit!_

Shion only chuckles, low and strangled against Nezumi's neck, and curls his arms around the other young man's waist. Warm breath falls against his nape, "It's about time," the white-haired boy whispers.

_End Chapter_


	7. Call It Courage

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe—that all belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _27 _of you, thank you!

_**Author's Note:**_ Short chapter this week ::smiles sheepishly::. I wanted to get a lot in, but this seemed the logical place to stop. I really, really love this chapter, even though there are some things I might like to rewrite. I hope you enjoy this—I have already started to work on the next one!

_**Rating:**_ T (pretty harmless in this chapter, just language)

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"**Speech"**

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Seven: Call it Courage_

Nezumi lets himself be held for what is quite literally hours in an attempt to wash away one of the many dark stains (or so he perceives it) of his past. Eventually, the moonlight in the room fades into the gray light of pre-dawn; it is only then that he finally calms and raises his head from Shion's chest. He finds, much to his amused relief, that Shion…has fallen asleep.

Snorting thickly and rubbing at his cheeks, Nezumi mutters, not without fondness, "Damn airhead."

Quietly, he watches his former pillow rise and fall with each even breath Shion takes, remembering far too vividly a time when it hadn't risen at all.

Releasing a tremulous breath, Nezumi drops his forehead back against Shion's chest.

_You idiot…why is it always you?_

Nezumi wonders if Shion knows what a tremendous step he's allowed him to take tonight: even though the drying tears are sticky on his cheeks, even though his stomach is a tumult of emotion…there is a part of his shredded heart that has quietly, and almost without his knowing, finally sewn itself up.

_This path…can it really lead to healing?_

It doesn't take but two minutes of them lying there together for Nezumi to acknowledge it just might.

Shion's chest is warm—it has always been _so warm_. The other young man's heart beats steadily against his cheek, and just that, just that simple sound and sensation, grounds him so _hard_, that any thought of leaving immediately flees through the open window on the spring wind.

_You've always been my miracle…why should it change now?_

A distant rumble of thunder and a sudden change in the wind's direction cause Nezumi to lift his head from where he has buried it in Shion's chest. Another rumble sounds, this time slightly nearer, and Nezumi reluctantly pulls himself away from Shion with an irritated groan.

When he untangles their limbs and sits up, he remains perched on the edge of the bed for a long moment, debating whether the potential damage to his books is really worth leaving Shion's warmth: he's been without it for three years, and his entire body is protesting the loss.

_That reminds me…I haven't yet thanked Shion for this, have I?_

A third, ear-splittingly _loud_ rumble of thunder interrupts his musings and decides his actions for him—within seconds Nezumi is off the bed and across the floor, slamming the window shut against the rain and the wind.

Shion jerks upright with a cry: "_Nezumi_!"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Nezumi whirls around. Shion's eyes are wildly scanning the room, passing over him twice before settling into a more methodical searching pattern.

More than anything else, the fright and panic etched on Shion's face reveal to Nezumi exactly what his three year absence has done to him.

_I've seriously fucked things up, haven't I?_

Shion's darting red eyes finally land on Nezumi, who is staring, wide-eyed and upright, next to the window. He takes in the lack of proper traveling attire, and the fact that the other young man is standing _inside_ the shut window, and promptly drops his flushed face into his hands, releasing a tremulous breath.

Instantly, Nezumi is back across the room, pressing his hands against Shion's face. "Easy, your Majesty," he murmurs, "I'm still here."

Shion's breathing hitches, "I-I thought you had…"

Nezumi's throat tightens, "I didn't," and closes up almost entirely, "Shion…I _wouldn't_. Not without…"

The rest of his statement dies on his tongue: _Not without saying good-bye._

Shion's shaking hands tangle themselves in the fabric of Nezumi's shirt as he buries himself against the other nineteen-year-old's chest.

Nezumi wraps his arms around Shion's back and continues, choking on the lump that has lodged itself in his throat, "Hell…I'd probably ask you to come with me."

Shion sputters out a laugh and Nezumi curses quietly when he realizes the front of his shirt has grown damp, "J-Just promise me one thing…"

Nezumi buries his face in Shion's neck, inhaling his scent and breathing against his skin, "Shion…I'd promise you the _world_ if I thought it would help."

Shion chuckles thickly, but sobers soon enough. His voice is very quiet: "No more farewells. Just…if you have to leave, promise me it will be 'until we meet again,'" his voice breaks, "even if it isn't within this lifetime."

Nezumi draws his breath in sharply, unaware his heart could _hurt_ this much. He specifically _ran away_ to prevent this sort of thing from happening ever again.

He's matured enough to admit, however, that it was the coward's way out. That doesn't mean it hurts any less:

_Fuck. It should be illegal to love someone this much._

The lump in his throat swells. Tearing himself away from Shion, Nezumi grips his shoulders, eyes boring into the other male, "Shion…look at me," the lump continues to grow, but Shion finally does, beautiful face wracked with tears, "I _swear_ to you…I will never leave you behind again. Do you understand, Shion? _I'm staying_."

IOIOIOIOIOI

He anticipates the rush of tears before they fall, but he isn't prepared for the searing kiss Shion yanks him into seconds later.

Nezumi's head spins as Shion shoves his lips against his own, kissing him with bruising force. This is _certainly_ not the Shion he remembers—awkward and clumsy with anything pertaining to love. This is a Shion in the full bloom of life, passionate and capable, possessed of a strength and resilience that draws Nezumi to him like a candle.

His hands grip Shion's hips, yanking him flush against his body. Nezumi's tongue chases Shion's back into its owner's mouth as he does his damnedest to take control of the kiss, pouring his entire soul past his lips.

He can't promise anything greater than this, and that is precisely what he seeks to convey, determined to destroy any lingering trace of fear or doubt. He has spent three years running from this, and he is tired of it, of this constant, constant running.

Shion is too precious to walk away from again.

Lack of air forces them apart, and Nezumi drops his forehead against Shion's, recovering the lost rhythm of his breathing, "…_Damn_, you're a good kisser. When did _that_ happen?"

Shion chuckles, chokes, and nearly starts crying again, prompting Nezumi to patter his face with kisses, "Sometime within the past twelve hours, I think."

Nezumi laughs softly, barely a breath, and nudges his nose against Shion's. With every kiss pressed to his cheek, nose, eyes, or chin, Shion hears the unneeded and unnecessary apology Nezumi whispers against his skin.

He can only shake his head, valiantly blinking back additional moisture, and slide his arms around the other boy's neck. "Just promise," he murmurs.

A quiet chuckle is pressed against his ear, and Nezumi's warm breath tickles his hair, "I'll do one better than that." Nezumi takes in a deep breath, letting it out, "_Tadaima_, Shion."

_I'm home._

IOIOIOIOIOI

It is well past noon by the time the pair's eyes open again. Shion wakes to find Nezumi curled tightly against him, still deep in the throes of sleep. Vaguely, he wonders why his mother hasn't woken them, and hazily concludes she must think they need the extra sleep.

He is past the point of denying it anymore.

"…_Heh, you've got someone to live for now: you're stuck. So do us all a favor, hey? Stop denying your basic human needs. I'm sure Lover Boy would appreciate it~"_

Shion groans softly and buries his face in his pillow. Inukashi's words are _not_ the first thing he wants to think about when he wakes up.

…Even if they _are_ true.

With a sigh, Shion lifts his head and peers over his shoulder, unable to stop the small smile that quirks his lips as he watches Nezumi sleep: the other young man's face is half crushed up against his back and his hands clutch Shion's shirt in his sleep.

_Thank the Gods it wasn't just a dream._

Gently, he eases over to face Nezumi, who immediately burrows into his chest, still more than half-asleep and unwilling to wake up just yet.

Shion chuckles, trying not to move too much, and allows him those last few precious minutes of sleep. Releasing a quiet breath, he faces the ceiling and wraps his arm around Nezumi's back, letting his thoughts subside to a nonintrusive hum.

Once Nezumi begins to stir, Shion laces his fingers through the other boy's hair, lightly stroking his fingertips through the silk strands.

_I…could certainly get used to this._

He pauses at the thought, eliciting a soft sound of protest from Nezumi, and it causes him to chuckle again, "You're getting spoiled, Nezumi," Shion murmurs warmly. Nonetheless, his fingers resume their path through the other teenager's hair.

It takes Nezumi another ten minutes to wake up fully, and even then he doesn't really move, resting quietly against Shion's chest.

When he is certain Nezumi is awake, Shion lightly nudges his shoulder, "Nezumi…will you go somewhere with me today?"

Folding his arms on Shion's chest, Nezumi lifts his head and places his chin on them, smirking slightly at the other young man, "Why, your Majesty~! Are you asking me out on a _date_?"

Rolling his eyes, Shion gently pushes Nezumi off his chest and sits up, trying very hard to ignore the sudden heat coloring his cheeks, "We can call it that if you like."

Catching himself on the mattress, Nezumi laughs and straightens, carefully climbing to his feet. Smiling slightly, Shion reaches up to cup his cheek, "I _do _want to spend time with you, Nezumi. So will you?"

Nezumi's smirk softens. Sweeping into an elegant bow he teases, "Such a humble request…who am I to disobey?" A moment later his arms are around Shion, and he whispers into his neck, now quite serious, "I'd be honored, Shion."

_End Chapter_


	8. A Moment's Time

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own these boys or their universe; that belongs to Asano Atsuko.

_**Reviewers:**_ All _31_ of you, thank you!

_**Author's Note:**_ I love that I'm going back into my books purchased for my English major to find relevant quotes for this story, who'd have thought ::winks::? In any case, this chapter's and next chapter's title are adapted quotes from Alexander Pope's _An Essay on Man_, better known for the famous quote "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." I hope you'll see why I chose them if you read it.

In any case, please enjoy this next chapter!

_**Rating:**_ T (language)

_**Summary:**_ Almost exactly three years after No. 6's downfall, the wandering star returns home…(Post-Series. Reunion-fic. Multi-chapter.)

"_**Speech"**_

_**Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)**_

_.:No More Farewells:._

_By Sentimental Star_

_Chapter Eight: A Moment's Time_

(Twenty Minutes Later)

Nezumi rubs embarrassedly at the back of his neck as they make their way downstairs twenty minutes later.

"Ah…you're sure it's all right for me to wear your clothes? I mean…" he pulls slightly at the shirt Shion has given him, the only real problem with it being that what is supposed to be long sleeves is three-quarter length on him. "Won't your mama be upset? She did make this for you, after all…"

Shion laughs, "Nezumi…knowing my mother, she'll insist on making three _more_ shirts for you that go with it."

Nezumi's cheeks tinge pink and he turns away, scratching sheepishly at the back of his head, "Well…it's nice to be taken care of, I suppose…" he mutters.

Shion feels a hard pang in his chest, remembering all too vividly Inukashi's words last night:

"_They seriously didn't know the meaning of 'restraint.' Not a fucking hide was left in Mao…except for an old granny and our rat, and even she died long before he met you…"_

Releasing a breath that shudders slightly, Shion reaches out to brush the other young man's fingers, bowing his head as their pinkies tangle, "Hey, Nezumi…there are several things I'd like to do this afternoon, but you know…if you have questions about anything, I can answer them." He takes in a deep breath and continues, "There will be a lot going on soon, and I want you to be part of it."

Nezumi pauses at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at Shion who is a few paces behind him with a lightly furrowed brow, "Why this so suddenly? I already told you I wanted to be with you today, you know…"

Shion stops a step above Nezumi and glances away, a faint blush on his cheeks as he releases Nezumi's pinky and brushes his white hair out of his face, "Yeah, I know…Next weekend's slightly different, though. I know you probably don't want to be a part of any event No.6 has, but…it's Peace Day then. It will have been exactly three years since Elyurias-"

Nezumi's hands settle gently around Shion's waist, cutting him off and startling his attention back to him. His gray eyes are earnest and very serious as they gaze up at Shion, "It's important to you, right?" At Shion's mute-shocked nod, he blows out an exasperated breath, "You idiot…_of course _I'll come!"

Shion's surprised yelp is smothered against Nezumi's chest as the taller boy jerks him into a hard hug.

He remains frozen in total shock a moment, before his arms cautiously reach out and wrap around Nezumi's body.

_Ba-thump, ba-thump…_

Shion buries his face in Nezumi's chest, unintentionally shutting his eyes as he calms, and listening to the other nineteen-year-old's steady heartbeat:

_Ba-thump, ba-thump…_

_Ah, there it is again. He's…really okay with this?_

As if in response to his thoughts, Nezumi's arms tighten around him, "You airhead…what are you thinking about?"

_Ba-thump, ba-thump…_

Shion smiles, nuzzling into his warmth, "You haven't even heard the whole explanation, yet…"

"Meh…" Nezumi rests his chin on top of Shion's head, burying his nose in the white strands against his cheek. The question he asks is rhetorical, "Does it really matter? I'll be with you, after all."

Blush warms Shion's cheeks as he curls his hands into Nezumi's shirt, "…Right."

IOIOIOIOIOI

(Half an Hour Later, Bakery Kitchen)

"Oh, my…you'll really be gone that long?"

Shion drops his chin into his hands and watches his mother take a fresh tray of braided bread she calls _challah_ out of the oven. "Not so very long, 'Kaasan. We'll probably only be gone a week, maybe not even that long. It all depends on Nezumi, really. I-I'm not sure how he'll react…"

Karan smiles sadly and moves the loaves to cooling racks, "I think you're underestimating yourself, Shion. Nezumi, too. He…seems like he's been alone too long, carrying a burden too heavy for just one person to bear."

Quietly, Shion marvels at how well his mother is able to read Nezumi, despite only knowing him for less than a day. "…Maybe I am," he sighs at last, thankful that Nezumi is currently in the shower and so, nowhere in sight.

"Will you at least be back for Peace Day?" Karan asks, holding out a croissant.

Shion accepts it with a grateful smile, "Y-Yeah…I'd like Nezumi to see it, or at least the Illumination."

Karan smiles, "It's a beautiful ceremony, Shion. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Shion drops his gaze to the croissant he is turning over and over in his palms, still not entirely convinced Nezumi will want any part in a No. 6 commemoration. "…'Kaasan?" he finally asks softly.

"Mmm?"

"…Do you mind that Nezumi is staying with us?"

Karan glances up in surprise, carefully placing the tray of croissants she has picked up back on the counter, "Of course I don't, Shion! Why do you ask?"

Shion inhales a deep breath and looks up at her, murmuring uneasily, "We're…sharing a bed, you know…"

Karan suddenly laughs, "Of course I know, Shion!"

Shion's eyes fly open wide and color floods his cheeks. "You _do_?"

His mother smiles, "He did kiss you in front of me, after all, and this morning when I went up to your room…" She trails off, shrugging and laughing slightly, "It was very obvious, sweetheart."

Heat flushes Shion's face, "You…don't mind?"

Karan's smile softens, "You love him, don't you?" At Shion's flustered nod, it turns into another laugh, "Then it's perfectly fine." The smile on her lips turns down to the _challah_ loaves she's finished unloading, "You've loved him since you were twelve, after all."

Shion blanches, "You _know_?"

She turns her smile up to him, "Shion…I've _known_ for three years, or at least suspected."

"…You aren't angry?"

A cool hand reaches out and cups his cheek. It smells of freshly baked bread, "How can I be angry, Shion, when he is the one who saved _you_?"

Shion's entire face eases, turning very tender. He reaches up to clasp her hand in place, "That's true…he has saved me. _So many times_ he has saved me. I'm not sure there will ever be any way I can repay him."

Karan laughs again, "That makes two of us, then." She strokes back his white hair, "Love him, Shion. Love him with all your heart. That is the greatest gift you can give _anyone_…"

IOIOIOIOIOI

Nezumi's thoughts are an incoherent mess as he blindly makes his way into Shion's room. His face is on fire and he hastily makes a beeline for the bathroom he left not ten minutes ago.

His core trembles with more emotions than he can name and he is so damn _overwhelmed_ that his mind can hardly process the conversation he has accidentally overheard.

_Shit, I don't even know how to fucking deal with it!_

He turns on the faucet and splashes his face with cold water, trying unsuccessfully to corral his emotions into some sorry resemblance of order, but they are haywire—at one moment hurtling him towards highs he can barely cope with, at others restricting his heart with an iron band.

Swiping his eyes free of water, he glares at his still-fogged up reflection in the bathroom mirror, desperately searching for the man Shion has fallen in love with and not finding even the boy that Karan feels she owes an unpaid (and unpayable) debt to.

_How can I possibly be who they think I am? After all I put them through…! I'm the one who owes a debt that can never be repaid…!_

Releasing a shuddering breath, Nezumi turns away from his reflection, slamming the lights off as he exits the bathroom. Once outside, he slides down against the wall, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over top of them as he leans his forehead against where they connect.

_I have absolutely no reference point for situations like this. It's the first goddamned time I've been in love—how the fuck should I know what to do! And it's not like there was ever anyone else...It's always been Shion. He saved my life and stole my heart, and I've never wanted it back. Even three years ago…even when I was so afraid of being hurt again...I never asked for it back. I doubt he even knows I gave it to him in the first place._

"Nezumi…?"

Shion is standing in the doorway when Nezumi glances up, looking as concerned as he has ever seen him.

_Such impeccable timing…_

He looks away, cheeks searing with color and heat, "What is it?" he mutters.

His white-haired counterpart enters the room and crouches in front of him, reaching out to touch his chin. "What's on your mind?"

Nezumi opts to remain silent. He isn't sure where he would even begin.

The waterfall of books tumbles into his vision:

_Well, that's as good a place as any, I suppose._

"Shion…" his begins, but his voice trails off.

_Crap. I don't even know how to start. What the hell can I say? Anything I think of seems too damn trite and so fucking inadequate. I'm scared shitless, but there's no way in hell I'm leaving. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?_

Shion exhales through his nose and slumps his shoulders when no other response is forthcoming. The taste of failure is bitter on Nezumi's tongue, but that is nothing compared to what he feels when a small, resigned smile spreads across Shion's lips, "It's all right, I've played the waiting game long enough. If I have to, I can wait again."

_As long as you need me to, Nezumi, _is the unspoken addition.

A lump lodges itself in Nezumi's throat, and he holds his hand out to Shion, unable to vocalize his thoughts:

_Fuck. See what you do to me, Shion?_

When Shion takes it, he tugs the shorter man down by his elbow, tilting his face up and sealing their lips together.

The kiss is firm and warm. Nezumi's arms circle around Shion's waist and squeeze. A moment later, he releases the other nineteen-year-old's lips to rest his forehead against Shion's stomach.

There is a few seconds of silence before Shion's fingers come down to gently tangle in Nezumi's hair. He gives a light pant, "Nezumi, what…was that for?"

Nezumi's arms tighten around his waist, "…Ask me after we get to wherever it is we're going today," he finally mutters.

IOIOIOIOIOI

(Forty Minutes Later)

_You've gotta be fucking kidding me…_

Nezumi swivels his gaze around the thriving marketplace, completely at a loss for words.

_This is the West Block?_

Indeed, it looks nothing like the vast hive of poverty and depravity he remembers, and it is a struggle to reconcile the West Block of his memories with the gush of humanity weaving around him now.

"Shion..._you_ did this?"

The question tumbles from his lips, pulled there by sheer, dumbfounded _shock_ as he takes in the changes three years have wrought on the place he's lived for nearly a quarter of his life.

There are food stalls everywhere: at least ten for vegetables and fruit, half a dozen for meat, and several for beans and bread scattered throughout…there is _seafood_, there are _grains_…To Nezumi, who has never seen the West Block filled with anything more than a handful of vendors for each (and for some things, none at all), this marketplace is absolutely _laden_ with riches. The heady scent of hot chestnuts, interwoven with kettle corn, interwoven with any one of half a dozen _other_ smells is actually making his _mouth_ water…

Shion beams at him, "It's a Famers' Market. Have you ever seen one? No. 5's is pretty impressive—it's what the Reconstruction Committee based ours off of."

Nezumi privately thinks No. 5's is nowhere near as impressive as this.

_But then, No. 5 doesn't have a former West Block, either._

Nezumi lends half an ear to the conversation Shion strikes up with the nearby chestnut vendor. He hears the word "candle" a number of times, and "Illumination," too, but he is far more enthralled by sights and sounds swirling around him than in a conversation that involves illuminating candles.

His senses are telling him something is off: the..."marketplace," for lack of a better term…that he remembers was near here. He knows that. He also remembers, quite clearly, that it was absolutely demolished during the Hunt three years ago, and hundreds of souls with it.

A woman in a shawl who is carrying a basket over her arm brushes against Nezumi's elbow. The little one with her nearly runs into his legs, before she redirects him, apologizing profusely the entire time. Two laughing young women weave around him, taking a peek at his face, before giggling together and hurrying on.

Nezumi feels heat crawl up his neck and flush his cheeks. He touches Shion's arm, glancing around in wordless unease. This new West Block grates on nerves far too accustomed to solitude and silence. The sheer crush of humanity alone is overwhelming his senses, and Nezumi begins to feel a little stifled.

He is used to wide open spaces and little human contact, diametrically opposite to where he finds himself now. If Shion weren't with him...

Shion seems to sense his unease. Smiling pleasantly at the vendor, he bows slightly and then turns, gently taking Nezumi by the hand and leading him away.

Nezumi, much to his chagrin, can do nothing else except follow his lead.

"…Are you all right?" Shion asks softly, once they reach a sparsely populated corner. He stops and faces Nezumi, reaching up to brush back the other young man's raven hair, "I should have known it would be too much. The Farmers' Market is usually not that crowded, but between the Illumination and Peace Day-"

Nezumi blinks down at him, the cacophony in his head quieting somewhat as its ache eases, "The Illumination…? You mentioned that earlier. What exactly is it? Something else you're dragging me into?"

He tries for joking on that last question, but his white-haired companion only manages tiny upward quirk of his lips. Shion holds his other hand out and Nezumi takes it wonderingly, unsure what to expect.

The palm of that hand is sweaty. Shion is _nervous_, and Nezumi, for the life of him, can't imagine why, "You'll understand, I think, once you see it."

Nezumi frowns slightly, rather puzzled. Willingly, he allows Shion to pull him around the corner…and stops dead in front of a gate marking the entrance to a park that most _certainly_ had not been there three years ago.

_End Chapter_


End file.
